Love Me When I'm Gone
by comicbooklovergreen
Summary: Sequel to The Return. They found each other, but what next? How long can you hide before the past catches up with you? Our heroes are about to find out. Now Complete
1. Chapter One

**Author's Note**: Well folks, its sequel time. Are you excited? Come on, I know you are. Okay so as I'm pretty sure you already know, this is the follow-up to my earlier story The Return. I suppose you don't really _have_ to read that one to understand what's going on here, but I strongly suggest that you do. And if you have read that one but haven't reviewed it, please do so. (Yes, I have no shame, but it's my story so I can beg for reviews if I want.) Anyways, read, enjoy and please let me know what you think.

**Disclaimer: **I still own nothing (unfortunately) and I'm still making absolutely no profit from this. And for the sake of my own sanity, this is the only place you'll be seeing this, so please don't sue me. Also, due to my continuing inability to come up with decent titles, I stole this one from the song by 3 Doors Down, which I (unfortunately) did not write, so please don't sue me for that either.

Love Me When I'm Gone

Chapter One

There were times; many in fact, when having insomnia could be a real pain in the ass. This, Elektra decided, definitely qualified as one of those times.

Moving silently through the darkened apartment she shared with Matt Murdock, Elektra slipped into the kitchen, not realizing until after she flicked on the light that she wasn't the only one awake.

Abby was sitting on the couch, gazing listlessly at a TV that wasn't actually turned on. On closer inspection, Elektra noticed the teen was shivering, despite the fact that the room was more then adequately heated. Instantly forgetting the glass of water she'd come out here for, Elektra redirected herself to the living room.

"Couldn't sleep?" She asked mildly, though the question seemed almost redundant. Why else would Abby be sitting here at close to two in the morning?

Rather then answering verbally, the girl simply shrugged, refusing to make eye contact.

Uh oh, this was bad. If she was reverting back to that guarded, ineffectual way of communication she'd used shortly after Mark's death, then something had to be very, very wrong. Taking a seat next to her on the couch, Elektra kept an air of forced casualness as she asked her next question.

"Another nightmare?"

The slight tensing of her shoulders was all the answer Elektra needed. Frowning in concern, she rested a hand on the girl's arm, squeezing lightly.

"Abby, look at me."

The tone was both gentle and firm and Abby obeyed without thinking, knowing that the end result would be the same no matter how long she tried to avoid it.

The tear tracks she saw on the girl's face only served to compound Elektra's worry. "Abby," she murmured quietly, "we've been through this before. Whatever's going on, you know I'm going to find out sooner or later."

This was true enough, but Abby saw no reason why sooner or later had to be tonight. "It was nothing, just the usual stuff. Missing Dad, you know how it is."

It wasn't a total lie anyway, simply a half truth which, Abby hoped, would satisfy her guardian at least temporarily.

But Elektra shook her head in the negative, dashing any hopes of a quick escape. "No Abbs, it's not going to work this time. You've been having these things for months and I know that not all of them are about your father. So tell me what's really going on."

Feeling as though she'd been boxed into a corner, Abby said the only thing she could think of that might be able to get her off the hook. "Is Matt okay?"

"Don't try to change the subject."

"I'm not, it's a serious question. He's been acting very un-Mattlike."

Raising an eyebrow, Elektra let her curiosity get the better of her. "What does that mean?"

"Oh come on, you saw how he was with that pizza guy the other day. I seriously thought he was going to throttle the kid."

Elektra found it rather odd that Abby would refer to him as a kid when the pizza delivery man had looked several years older then Abby herself, but she had to admit the girl had a point.

Despite Matt's assertions that he was quite capable of cooking a decent meal, the three of them quickly realized that his work at the law offices as well as his night job rarely permitted him to actually do so. This combined with Elektra's lack of culinary skills (which Matt blamed on too many years of being served by a private chef) meant that they probably consumed more takeout food then was strictly healthy. Of course this was more then made up for by the fact that they were all in better then excellent health, but that wasn't the point.

On the night in question, they had ordered from a local pizza joint. When the deliveryman showed up, Elektra knew immediately that he must be new. She knew this not only because of her excellent memory, but also because only the new guys were stupid enough to try and steal from Matt.

People being as they were, she soon learned that it was borderline impossible to find a delivery person who didn't attempt to take advantage of Matt's condition. Every time they saw a blind man, they'd try to convince him that he'd given them a five instead of a ten or a ten instead of a twenty and so on. This usually resulted in a long speech from Matt about the illegality of such behavior and a threat to call their manager. (There had been one instance where Elektra, growing fed up with the ritual, had interrupted her training session long enough to come out with both sais in hand, doing casual figure eights while giving the poor fool an extremely detailed description of what she would do to him if he ever tried such behavior again. Matt made a good try at being angry about this afterward, but the effect was ruined by the grin that had played across his face.)

As it was this, particular individual had been new, and proceeded to prove what Foggy Nelson had said long ago: some people had no compassion for the handicapped. When the boy tried to make an extra ten bucks, something had come over Matt for the briefest of moments. His body had tensed and he'd given the young man the kind of murderous glare he usually reserved for the scum he dealt with on a nightly basis.

There was no violence involved, he hadn't thrown the younger man against a wall or anything of the like, but Elektra, who'd walked in just in time to witness the whole thing, couldn't deny how disturbed she was by it.

There had been other things too. He seemed to have grown distant the last few days, though he'd blamed it on too much casework and too little sleep.

"And last night I asked him if I could get a nose ring."

Elektra blinked rapidly, Abby's words bringing her back to the present. "A nose ring?"

"Yup, I asked if I could have one and he said yes."

"You're not getting a nose ring." Then, with a mixture of confusion and anger, "Why in the hell would he okay you getting a nose ring?"

Abby shrugged, unable to offer up any sort of explanation. "He seemed really distracted when he said it. I probably could've told him I was pregnant and gotten the same answer."

"Somehow I doubt that," Elektra said thoughtfully, picturing Matt's reaction to such news, "you're not are you?"

Abby actually laughed at that, the noise seeming overly loud in the otherwise silent apartment. "God no! Are you kidding?"

"Just making sure." Suddenly remembering what had started this discussion to begin with, she turned back to the more pressing of the two issues.

"Okay, point for you for distracting me, but we're not here to talk about Matt. So I'll ask again, what's going on with these nightmares?"

Abby didn't say anything, prompting Elektra to tighten her grip on the young girl's arm. "Abby, you'd tell me if there was something really, really wrong?"

Abby stood from the couch without answering, grateful that Elektra hadn't yet resorted to physical restraint to get the information she wanted.

"Matt's back," she stated simply before retreating to what had been her room for going on six months now.

Elektra was about to follow, but a grunt of pain coming from her bedroom derailed those plans. Sighing in defeat, she changed course and moved toward the sound. Abby had managed to evade her for now, but she had every intention of getting to the bottom of this, whether the girl wanted her to or not.

* * *

She found Matt in the bathroom, clad in his Daredevil costume except for the mask, which he'd thrown on the floor. There was a nasty cut on his face which didn't look very deep, but must have been painful nonetheless. He paused in the act of cleaning it to give her a tired smile. "Hey, sorry I'm late." 

Waving the apology off, Elektra moved to stand in front of him, examining both the wound and his less then stellar attempt at treating it.

"Sit down," she ordered firmly. "This is going to scar if you don't take care of it properly."

"I thought you found my battle scars sexy?" He responded, though he did take a seat on the edge of the counter.

"That doesn't mean you need to go out of your way to make new ones," she replied, gathering up the necessary supplies from the medicine cabinet.

"You saying you wouldn't love me if my face was scarred?" He wondered in a tone of mock hurt.

Turning to face him, Elektra pressed a tender kiss to his lips, her worries of earlier momentarily forgotten. "You know the answer to that question."

Matt nodded that yes, he did know, both of them growing silent for the next few minutes as Elektra worked on patching him up.

As she worked, Elektra took the opportunity to study his face more closely. There were definite signs of strain, dark circles under the eyes that she wasn't used to seeing on him, more cuts and bruises then usual. The eyes themselves were closed now, the head drooping slightly as if he were so tired that keeping it up had become too difficult. She also noticed that despite his earlier attempts at humor, he seemed more weary then usual, his whole being somehow different.

When Elektra was done, Matt slid off the counter and began digging through the medicine cabinet. She didn't miss the way his shoulders sagged, or the way he held the countertop with his free hand, as if to steady himself. Unable to stand it any longer, she went for the direct approach.

"What's going on with you?"

Matt froze for a split second before regaining his composure. "Nothing why?"

"You've been acting weird the last couple days."

"Have I?"

Elektra nodded, watching his face in the mirror.. "Abby said you told her she could get a nose ring."

"What? I never-"Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath before starting again. "I might have told her she could, but I've been so stressed lately..."

"And why is that?"

Shaking his head, he pulled out several little orange bottles and began unscrewing the caps. "Just the usual, nothing for you to worry about."

"Really?"

Matt paused again, his hand midway to his mouth. "You don't believe me."

"No, I don't actually, and I don't think run of the mill stress would have you acting like this."

"Acting like what? I'm fine."

Tilting his head back, he downed a handful of pills without water and began chewing on them a bit too loudly. It was a strange habit of his, one that Elektra was in no mood to put up with tonight. Feeling an uncharacteristic bout of anger toward him, she decided that a small dose of revenge was in order.

"Abby's pregnant."

The effect was better then she could've imagined. The normally unflappable lawyer/vigilante's eyes nearly bulged out of his head, his features taking on a deer in the headlights look. He also spit out the painkillers he'd been gnawing on, coughing for almost a full minute before he was able to regain control.

"You're not serious?" He gasped out.

"You tell me," she replied, getting more enjoyment out of this then she probably should have.

Matt concentrated on her heartbeat for a few seconds before finally turning to face her. "Jesus….. Not funny, not even remotely humorous. Were you trying to give me a heart attack? Because I would think there are easier ways of getting rid of me."

"Shut up. And for your information, I found it very funny, the look on your face-"

"Okay, just stop, please, for God's sake-"

"Then give me an honest answer, unless you want me to beat it out of you."

He seemed to consider this for a moment. "Actually…"

"Okay, forget I said that, because I can see you're getting ideas, none of which I'm going to like. Now, my patience isn't what it should be, not with you and Abby both hiding things from me, so spit it out."

"What do you mean hiding things? Did she have another nightmare?

"Yes, and stop avoiding the question. God, have you been giving her lessons?"

"Don't be ridiculous-"

"Then tell me the truth!"

Hearing the anger in her voice and knowing how determined she was about getting what she wanted, Matt finally conceded defeat.

"Fine," he said tiredly, "there is something I haven't told you."


	2. Chapter Two

**Author's Note**: Hello again readers. Okay, so this one is a bit short, but I decided to cut it in half because I'm going to be gone the next couple days and I wanted to get at least this part done. You know the drill, the more reviews I get; the more I want to write, which means updates that won't take a month. I will warn you that I have exams coming up, as well as a boatload of applications to fill out, so please bear with me. Special thanks to Ratdogtwo and AndiB86 for letting me bounce ideas off them. You guys rule! (Sorry I forgot to mention it in the first chapter.) Thanks to the people who reviewed last chapter and I hope everyone out there has s safe and happy New Year.

Love Me When I'm Gone

Chapter Two

"Well?" Elektra was growing extremely impatient while Matt collected his thoughts, trying to break the news in a way that wouldn't result in him losing a finger or two.

"Fisk," he finally stated.

The name alone sent bile flooding up Elektra's throat, her hands clenching into white knuckled fists. "What about him?" She asked.

"He-I-maybe you should sit down."

"Don't tell me to fucking sit down, Matt; just get to the point or so help me-!"

"Fine, fine," Matt held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. He really wished she would've sat down though; it would be harder to get to her weapons stash if she were sitting down.

"Fisk…" he paused, readying himself for what was to come. "Fisk is out of prison. He left Ryker's about three weeks ago."

Even though she'd been half expecting it, Elektra was still shocked by what he'd said. The words played over and over again in her head like a broken tape until she realized that something didn't make sense.

"Left? What do you mean left? You mean he escaped."

And here came the fun part. "No, I mean left. Walked out, probably drove away in a limo."

"What? How is that possible? You said he was serving three life sentences."

"I know," Matt replied, slowly moving across the room toward the dresser. "But there was some kind of agreement with the D.A.-"

"Agreement? How the hell could there be an agreement? After all the charges they nailed him on-"

"I know," he repeated, carefully blocking her view of the drawer which held an extra pair of sais, a large assortment of knives, and all manner of other devices that Elektra considered necessary to safeguard against intruders. "But he's been very cooperative, helped finger a lot of heavy hitters, and the district attorney though that since he's already served five years-"

"Five years, he thinks that's enough? After everything that bastard did five hundred years wouldn't be enough!"

"Look," Matt said carefully," I get how you're feeling, believe me, I reacted the same way but-"

"How long have you known?" Elektra cut him off. When he didn't answer, merely hung his head like a boy being scolded for not cleaning up his room, Elektra took a predatory step forward, green eyes flashing dangerously.

"How long?" She repeated

Being careful to keep himself between her and the weapons, Matt finally answered. "I found out last week, but before you get angry-"

"Angry? Angry? No Matt, no, I'm so far beyond angry right now-"

"Okay fine, but-"

"What the hell were you thinking?" She continued, ignoring the interruption. "You've known since last week and you wait 'til now to open your mouth?"

"Well if you'd just let me explain-"

"Explain? Explain what, there's nothing to explain. The only explanation that makes any kind of sense is that someone drilled a hole into that thick head of yours and removed every single piece of brain matter you had!" Because why else would you put us all at risk like that? God Matt, he could be watching us right now, if he knows about Abby-"

"All right that's enough." Taking a tremendous risk, Matt left the dresser unguarded and went to put his hands on her shoulders. She shrugged out of his grasp, though he wasn't that bothered by it, too thankful she hadn't yet seen fit to unleash her rage physically.

"And when were you going to tell me anyway? If I hadn't forced you, when exactly were you going to mention this little development? Was it before or after he put a bomb in the apartment? Or grabbed Abby on her way to school? Or-"

"Goddammit E, would you please just listen to me for one second?"

Amazingly enough, she fell silent, though he sensed her glancing in the direction of the nightstand. She hadn't bought a gun had she? Surely he would've known? Nevertheless, he shifted his position, hoping to get the drop on her should she have a mind to kill him. He doubted that she'd actually go through with it, but if she were to shoot him in the leg…

Forcing these thoughts to the back of his mind, Matt took advantage of her temporary willingness to let him speak. "I was trying to protect you."

He regretted the words the moment they were out, knowing he'd just stepped into another minefield Abby cared for him right? She wouldn't kill him if she thought it would hurt Abby. Right?

"What do you mean protect me? I'm more then capable of handling myself; you of all people should know that."

"Yeah," Matt said bitterly, his hand reaching unconsciously for his shoulder, "I suppose I should. First hand experience, right?"

For a split second, he was sure her heart stopped. Had his vision still been intact, Matt would've seen the blood drain from her face, turning Elektra's normally olive complexion to a sickly white. Shit, what had he done?"

She was in his arms in a second, Matt closing the distance between them at speeds that shouldn't have been possible. Now he was crushing her rigid body to his chest, running his fingers along her back, all the while begging her forgiveness. What the hell was wrong with him?"

"Jesus, God E, I'm sorry. I didn't mean that. You know I didn't mean that. I'm sorry Elektra, I'm so sorry. I love you, you know that."

Elektra remained silent, her face buried in the leather of his suit, not fighting the embrace, but not reciprocating either. He'd never brought it up before, never spoken of what she'd done to him in her revenge induced haze. On those countless nights when sleep had eluded her while out on another job, she'd replayed it over and over, the way he'd bled, the groan of shock and pain that wracked through his body as he slid against that wall, the sound of the glass cracking.

The bile in her throat now turned to horrible, overpowering nausea. Pushing him roughly away from her, Elektra sprinted the few steps to the master bathroom, feeling sure that the chicken pot pie she'd had for dinner was about to make a reappearance. However, on reaching the porcelain bowl, she soon realized that vomiting wasn't an option. Not because she didn't want to, not even because she knew Matt was watching her, but because years of controlling her body's reactions to the greatest possible degree had made such an action impossible. There was still too much training ingrained within her, training that was already kicking in, forcing the nausea to recede.

That same training stopped her from releasing the sobs that were now lodged like bricks in her throat. She trembled uncontrollably though, gasping for air in a desperate attempt to reign in her emotions. But she deserved it didn't she? Much as the comment had torn at her, it was far from untrue. She'd hurt him, given him one of those battle scars he'd joked about earlier, and despite how forgiving he'd been, it was now clear that he hadn't forgotten.

Matt stood motionless, hearing the sounds of her distress but unable to go to her. A small part of it came from knowing she'd push him away, that she wouldn't let him near until she'd composed herself. The bigger part though, the bigger reason for his hesitation, stemmed from the self loathing that was now raging within him. Stupid, lousy, piece of garbage, what the fuck was the matter with him? He'd hurt her, maybe not in the way Kirigi, or Bullseye, or Fisk had, but he'd hurt her nonetheless. The only woman he'd ever loved, one of the only people he had left, and with one remark, made in a moment of exhaustion and frustration at his own failures, he may have screwed that up too.

Supporting herself on legs that were suspiciously weaker then usual, Elektra stood up, splashed cold water on her face, and did her best not to notice when Matt worked up enough courage to come stand behind her.

"I'm sorry," he whispered brokenly. "That was-"

"It was the truth; you don't have to apologize for it."

Damn it, why did she have to be so calm? Why couldn't she do something constructive, like stab him with one of those knives he'd worked so hard to keep her away from? He deserved it, God knew he deserved it, but apparently she didn't.

"No it wasn't the truth! It was bullshit and it was probably the stupidest thing I've ever done!" Well, perhaps not the stupidest thing he'd _ever_ done, but close to it. The stupidest had probably been letting both their fathers die.

"Matt, I did it; you've got the mark to prove it, so why are we arguing about-?"

She didn't get to finish. Without warning, he spun her around, crashing his lips against hers, needing so desperately to show her how wrong he'd been. Before she knew what was happening, Matt pulled away, moving his hands to cup her face, wishing even more desperately that he could see her eyes.

"Listen to me. What I just said was complete and total garbage. I didn't tell you about Fisk because I knew you'd be upset. I didn't want you to be upset because I know you've been worried ever since we found out about Bullseye. I didn't want to worry you even more if there was even the slightest chance I could handle Fisk myself. And that was stupid, not as stupid as what I just said, but stupid enough. It's just, I was happy, E. Despite everything, this was the happiest I've been since before Fisk killed my father and the thought of him or Bullseye, or whoever else coming in to ruin it…"

He trailed off helplessly, waiting for her to say something, anything. Anything was better then this heavy, oppressing silence.

When Elektra did speak, it was with the air of someone that has finally put together that last piece of the puzzle, the one that makes everything fit together and fall into place.

"Matt, did you say that Fisk killed your father?"


	3. Chapter Three

**Author's Note: **Well, here's part three, but I guess you already know that since you clicked on it. Just so you know, I threw this together pretty fast so that I could get it done before I spend all day tomorrow doing homework. As such, it might not be the best in the world, but I hope you enjoy anyway. There's a reference near the end to a conversation between Matt and Elektra that I haven't actually written yet. It will come into play later, but you won't know what they're discussing for some time yet, so please don't get too confused. Also, the lines where Elektra tells Matt what she will do to him if he continues keeping secrets were inspired by a scene in Daredevil #8, written by Kevin Smith. Thanks to everyone who reviewed, and please keep them coming.

Love Me When I'm Gone

Chapter Three

The question took Matt by surprise. It took him a moment to even realize where it had come from and that with yet another slip of the tongue, he'd just opened up a particularly painful Pandora's Box.

"Matt?" Elektra pressed gently but insistently. She knew she'd heard him right, knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, but she still needed confirmation from him. "Answer me."

Instead of complying, Matt stepped away from her, deliberately keeping his head bowed low. His lack of response, combined with the defensive body language was as telling as any words could have been; leaving Elektra once again desperate for answers. She followed him back to the bedroom, snagging his right arm.

"You told me your father was killed by a mob boss. That was over twenty years ago so how-"

"Fallon was the one who ordered the hit. Fisk was working for him as a low level enforcer. He's the one who actually carried it out."

The words were flat, emotionless. Matt needed it that way. He couldn't afford to let his voice crack, couldn't afford to show how much this was affecting him, because if he broke now, in his current state of mind, he seriously doubted his ability to pull himself together again.

Elektra meanwhile could do nothing but stare at his rigid back, too shocked to even turn him so he was facing her. Her mouth opened and closed several times, but the gift of verbal communication seemed to have taken its leave of her. Fisk had killed Jack Murdock. The same man had killed both their fathers.

While she processed this new bit of information, Matt removed his arm from her grip, needing to put some physical distance between them. He thought for a moment about changing out of the suit, but soon realized that even that small task was too much for him right now. He sat down heavily on the edge of the bed, waiting for the inevitable barrage of questions that were sure to come.

And come they did. Though it took her a bit longer to recover then she would've liked, Elektra did finally regain control of herself. Turning to face him, she asked the first question she could think of, but this time there was no hint of anger or accusation in her voice.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner? We discussed this the night after I came back, why not then?"

"Isn't it obvious? You said it yourself, you'd just come back and frankly I was more interested in finding out how that was possible then I was in digging up childhood memories.

"And after that?"

"You know what happened after that. Between The Hand, and Bullseye, and getting settled into some kind of routine…Besides, it's not exactly something you bring up during dinner conversation."

Feeling utterly drained, Matt slid from the edge of the bed, sinking into a sitting position on the floor. It shouldn't bother him this much, not after over two decades, but somehow it did. At that moment, he felt a desperate need to touch Elektra, to reassure himself of her presence. To reassure himself that, mad or not, she was still here, that Fisk hadn't managed to take her from him as well.

Extending his hand in her general direction, he let the depth of his sadness, of his need to be with her, enter his voice. "E, come here. Please. I know you're mad and I promise to be your personal punching bag later but for right now…"

Fortunately, he didn't have to continue. She was already next to him on the floor, allowing him to pull her into a semi lying position in his lap.

Cradling her so that his chin rested lightly on her head, Matt breathed in the sweet scent of her shampoo; of the perfume she hadn't worn in days but whose fragrance still clung to her, of her own natural scent that he'd been addicted to for close to five years now. Burying his face in her hair, Matt shuddered slightly at the thought of losing her again, a thought that, since learning of Fisk's release, had been eating him up inside.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Fisk getting out."

"You should be," she answered, though there was no anger to go with the words. Oh it would come back, she knew that for sure, but probably not with anywhere near the same intensity, and definitely not tonight. However, the fact that he hadn't told of the connection with his father until now still bothered her.

As if reading her mind, Matt spoke again, holding her a little tighter as he did. "I was going to tell you eventually, but talking about it just brings everything back and I didn't want that."

Elektra heard his sharp intake of breath and knew he was preparing to say something else, something that clearly wasn't easy for him. Squeezing his hand, which was resting on her abdomen, she silently urged him to go on.

The gesture had the desired effect and Matt was able to talk past the lump that had settled into his throat. "The other reason, the main one really, was that I didn't want Fisk to come between us."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I didn't want this to change anything. I didn't want him to taint what we had."

"Matt, that's-"

"Don't tell me it doesn't change things, you know perfectly well that it does."

"Maybe, but not in the way you think."

"Look, I know it's crazy, I know it doesn't make sense, but I didn't want him to be the connection between us, the reason we're together."

"He's not."

"Maybe, but you can't deny the irony in all this."

Unbidden, an image flashed across his mind, an image so ridiculous that he began to laugh uncontrollably. He was thinking of the commercials for those online dating sites, the ones that featured a happy couple talking nonstop about how perfectly matched, how amazingly compatible they were. Matt thought of what it would be like if he and Elektra were on that commercial, how they'd gush that they were so perfectly matched that the same person had ruined both their lies.

It wasn't funny, it wasn't funny at all. In fact it was one of his worst fears, that Wilson Fisk was the reason they were together. It wasn't true, he knew that, just as he'd told Elektra, but that didn't make it any less terrifying.

His entire body shook with laughter, their current position meaning that Elektra could feel all of it, as if the sound wasn't bad enough. As she listened though, she soon realized that he was no longer laughing, but crying. She tried to sit up, but Matt's hold on her tightened convulsively, as if he was afraid she'd disappear the moment they lost physical contact. Heart breaking for what seemed like the millionth time since her mother died, Elektra placed her thumb against his wrist, feeling the racing pulse beneath his skin.

"It's okay," she soothed. "Everything's going to be fine."

Relaxing slightly, he allowed her to sit up this time, albeit reluctantly. But instead of leaving as he thought she would, Elektra pulled him down to rest against her lap, their position essentially the same as before. The only difference now was that she was holding him. And for the first time in a long, long time, Matt allowed himself to be comforted.

* * *

Sometime later, after the last of his tears had finally abated, they lay in bed together, clothes thrown carelessly to the ground.

"What are you thinking about?" Elektra asked, fingers running absently along the side of his face, noting the stubble that was starting to appear there.

"Honestly? I was thinking that sometimes I really wish you'd have taken me up on my offer."

Confused, Elektra was about to ask what he meant, then she remembered what he was talking about and couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped her lips.

"That was five years ago, you can't be serious."

"Come on" he prodded, "you can't tell me you didn't find it even the least bit tempting."

"No," Elektra replied softly. "Actually, I found it very tempting." She didn't bother adding that part of her, a big part in fact, wished the same thing he did.

Silence reigned for a few more minutes before Elektra spoke again. "It doesn't change anything, you know that right?"

"Yeah, I do now."

"Good," she answered, placing a quick kiss on his collarbone. The, feeling it necessary to remind him of the foolishness of keeping Fisk's release a secret, she added, "But if you ever try hiding things from me again, I'll beat you to within an inch of your life. Got it?"

"Yes, dear."

"Hey," Abby greeted upon seeing Elektra the next afternoon. Dropping her backpack onto the couch, she immediately grabbed a soda from the fridge.

"Hey yourself," Elektra replied stepping out from the training room. "How was school?"

"Boring, as usual. Where's Matt?"

"Still at the office, he's got a lot of work to do yet."

"So did you two have a fight or something?"

"Why do you say that?" They'd hoped to avoid telling the girl for at least another day or two, but if she'd heard them arguing the night before…

"Well he sent you flowers didn't he? Why would he do that if he wasn't trying to score points?"

Elektra's blood ran cold. "What do you mean he sent me flowers?"

Abby raised an eyebrow, confused by the sudden urgency in Elektra's voice. "Yeah, roses, there was a bouquet of them right outside." Abby pointed to the kitchen table where she'd deposited them after finding them in front of the apartment door. "But E, what-"

She didn't get to complete the sentence, because Elektra was already up and diving for the phone as if her life depended on it.


	4. Chapter Four

**Author's Note**: Wow, I can't believe this took so long. Now that my exams are over and I somehow managed to pass math (It's a miracle!) I should be able to update a little more frequently. Again, thanks for your patience and feedback, all of it is greatly appreciated. Please continue to read and review and, if I'm really lucky, there might be another chapter within the next few days

Love Me When I'm Gone

Chapter Four

"Okay, seriously you guys are really starting to freak me out."

Matt sighed, throwing the offending floral arrangement into the garbage before he turned to face Abby. "It's nothing," he stated in the calmest voice he could muster. "Why don't you go do your homework?"

It was a demand thinly veiled as a request, but Abby wasn't going for it. "Don't have any."

"Then why don't you go study?" He asked, rapidly losing whatever patience he had left.

"No tests for another two weeks."

"So get a head start."

"Oh come on."

The glare she received from Elektra was so intense that Abby couldn't help but squirm.

"Abby. Bedroom. Now." She illustrated her point by jerking her thumb in the direction of the hallway.

The teen rolled her eyes at the use of simple, one word commands. "I'm not a dog you know."

_No,_ Elektra thought, _most dogs have better listening skills_. Rather then continue this game of going around in circles, she simply stared the girl down until Abby was forced to relent. Rolling her eyes one final time she did as instructed.

"So," Matt began once Abby had disappeared into her room, "what do you want to do?"

"Right now? Right now I want to find that son of a bitch and rip his throat out."

Matt shook his head lightly, though he had to admit that her sentiments closely mirrored his own. "Besides the obvious. I meant what do you think our next move should be, how do you want to handle this?"

"You mean ripping his throat out isn't an option?" She asked dryly

"Not when we have no idea where he is."

"Well then what do you suggest? Because frankly that's the only thing I'm interested in."

Matt let out another deep sigh, rubbing his temples to ward off the headache he felt building there. "I think you should call Stick, see if he knows anything that may be able to help. And before you say anything, I know you don't like asking for his help but-"

"Fine."

"Fine?" Matt repeated, eyebrows climbing toward his hairline. He'd been sure that she would fight him on this, and, sleep deprived as he was, Matt couldn't understand why that wasn't the case.

"Fine," Elektra reiterated. "Don't get me wrong, I still hate the fact that we're going to him with this, but there might not be another choice. We know Fisk is watching us, which means he knows about Abby, which means-"

"That it would probably be safer if she stayed at The Compound until this is over," Matt finished for her.

"Exactly."

Opening his mouth as if to speak, Matt paused, tilting his head sideways.

"What?" Elektra questioned, knowing he was listening to something, but unsure what that something was. Matt merely shook his head, lips twisting in a wry smile.

"We've got to stop letting her watch Jerry Springer."

"What?" Elektra repeated, now more confused then ever.

"Abby just swore more times in a single sentence then some of the inmates I've met."

"I didn't hear…" Oh, right. Of course she hadn't heard. "She's listening to us."

"And apparently she doesn't like our plan for her living arrangements."

They'd lowered their voices since realizing what was happening. Now Elektra walked to the stereo, turning it on and making sure the volume was loud enough to obscure the rest of the conversation. A small laugh, the first real one in days, escaped Matt's mouth as he continued to listen.

"Jeez, whatever schools she went to must have had some great foreign language programs."

"What do you mean?" Elektra wondered, coming back to stand in front of him.

"She's cursing in Spanish, French, German, and what I think is a dead language from about two thousand years ago."

"Great, just great. Mark would be thrilled to know that I've somehow managed to corrupt his daughter already."

"Don't beat yourself up over it; I get the feeling she was like this long before you showed up."

A muffled shout from the other room caught Elektra's attention, though the words were impossible to make out over the noise of the music. "Did you catch that?"

"Yeah, actually. She said that using the stereo is cheating and then something about missing all the cool stuff."

Elektra shook her head briefly before turning her attention to Matt, his voice raised to be heard over the music.

"You have any idea how long the roses were there?"

"I couldn't tell you, I wasn't here most of the day."

"Where were you then?"

"Roof of the building across from Abby's school."

"You followed her?"

"Of course I did," Elektra replied somewhat defensively. "You think I was going to let her run around alone with that bastard on the streets?"

Matt said nothing. He honestly hadn't thought about it much, though he now realized that was a mistake on his part. They were being watched, the proof undeniable now, and he should've known Elektra would take it upon herself to play bodyguard, albeit from a distance.

"She didn't see you?" He wondered.

"No, I cut it close though. Got home five minutes before she did."

Matt almost asked how she'd failed to see the roses upon her return to the apartment, then mentally slapped himself. She'd used the rooftop entrance. He must be more tired then he thought if something so obvious was slipping his mind.

"We have to protect her," Elektra continued, a definite note of both fear and determination lacing her voice. Reaching to turn off the stereo, he tilted her chin up toward his face.

"We will. We've done it before, we'll do it again. Whatever it takes."

Elektra nodded, but refused to meet his gaze, even knowing he couldn't see her. "I'm just so sick of this Matt."

"That makes two of us," he responded wearily.

Nothing was said for a moment, both of them lost inside their own heads. Then, without warning, Matt pulled her into his arms, burying his face between her neck and shoulder.

"I've missed you so much."

Despite their closeness, Elektra had to strain to hear him. It was barely a whisper and she wondered if he even knew he'd spoken aloud. "I know," she responded, thrown off by the sudden change of subject and unsure what to say.

"When this is over, what do you say we get away for awhile?"

Elektra raised her eyebrows at yet another new topic, especially that one. "You want to take a vacation?"

"Sure, it would be fun. We could leave the city; maybe go to a beach somewhere. Doesn't that sound good to you?"

"It would, if I actually believed you could go more then twelve hours without jumping into that suit." She didn't need to explain which suit she meant.

"You think I couldn't forget the masked vigilante gig for a week?"

Elektra smiled against his shoulder. "You would drive yourself insane, then you'd drive me insane. Then I'd drive Abby insane, and we'd all end up killing each other."

"Well, I guess that answers the question of where Abby gets her flare for the dramatic. Seriously though, don't you think it would be fun?"

His enthusiasm was almost childlike, causing Elektra to pull out of the embrace and regard him with curiosity. "Where's this coming from all of a sudden?"

Matt shrugged. The truth was that he barely even knew what he was saying anymore. He was too worried, too terrified to bother editing himself, and the idea of running away to some tropical beach seemed pretty appealing right then. But they couldn't run, it simply wasn't an option. The bad guy had to be dealt with, then maybe they could consider taking a break.

The problem though, the one that was becoming more and more obvious as time went on, was that it never seemed to end. One crisis would be averted, only to be followed by another, the cycle going on and on and on. He was starting to believe that there wouldn't be an end, that their whole lives would be spent slaying demons from their past that would never truly go away, never leave them in peace.

The sound of a rapid heartbeat pulled him back to reality and, on listening to it more closely; Matt realized that something wasn't right. Crossing the room in three great strides, he went down the hallway and through the door to Abby's room.

Her pulse and heartbeat were irregularly fast, almost dangerously so. The scent of tears met him as he entered, Elektra close behind.

"Abby, what happened?" She asked; shocked to see the girl crying with her knees drawn up to her chest, chin resting atop them.

A choked sob was her only reply. Coming to knee in front of her, Elektra ran her fingers lightly along the teen's wrist, discovering for herself what Matt already knew. The pulse there was fast, much faster then it should be.

Matt didn't know what to make of this. It wasn't a nightmare, he was sure of that at least. Abby had been awake, her vitals perfectly normal just a few seconds ago. Now she sat huddled on the floor by the bed, cod sweat starting to break out against her paler then normal skin. Moving instinctively, he went to comfort her as Elektra was trying to do, only to be stopped in his tracks.

As he'd stepped forward, Abby's heart rate had suddenly spiked, her body shrinking back from him. Matt recognized the action. There was a certain way your heart beat, a certain scent you gave off, certain things that only happened when you were terribly, deathly afraid.

Thinking he may have misread her somehow, Matt took a cautious step forward. The results were the same. Abby was afraid of him. No, not just afraid, petrified. But…why? Elektra was holding her close, murmuring words he paid no attention to, and the girl seemed perfectly willing to cling to let her. There was trust there, no hint of fear at all.

The insistent ringing of the living room phone caught Matt's attention before he could even begin coming up with rational explanations. Slowly, he backed out of the room, noting an immediate decrease in Abby's heart rate the moment he did so. Confused and more worried then ever, he snatched the phone from the counter.

"What?"

"Matt?" Ben Urich questioned, surprised by the anger he heard in the other man's voice.

"Look Ben, whatever it is, now's not the best time."

"Yeah, I got that, but trust me; I think you'll want to hear this. It's about the Kingpin."


	5. Chapter Five

**Author's Note**: Hey everybody guess what? I had a snow day today, which meant I actually got time to work on this! Of course, I could've been exercising, or working on my homework, or filling out college applications or-never mind. I'm blown away by my own ambition sometimes. Then again, what better way to procrastinate then by doing this? Can you think of one? Can you? Nope, didn't think so. Anyway, thanks for all your feedback and please keep it coming. Also, I didn't edit this as much as I usually do, so please forgive any typos. Read, enjoy, and press that nice purple button when you're done.

Love Me When I'm Gone

Chapter Five

She found him on the roof nearly an hour later. Arms crossed over his chest, his posture unnaturally stiff, he didn't turn or acknowledge her presence.

"She's calmed down now. Says it was a dream, that she doesn't remember what it was about and that's it."

Coming to stand beside him, Elektra saw Matt's face twist into a bitter grimace, the last remnants of afternoon sunlight shining against his maroon sunglasses.

"She's lying. She was awake the entire time we were talking."

"I know she's lying, I just can't figure out why. And now she's locked herself in her room and won't say a word."

Matt knew she was waiting for him, waiting for some kind of response, but what was he supposed to say? He didn't know what was wrong any more then she did. He could only think about one thing.

"She was afraid of me, Elektra."

"No she wasn't." The answer was automatic, the words sounding false to her own ears.

Matt let out a bitter sort of half laugh, his left hand going up to rub at his temple. "Don't pretend you didn't notice E. Hell, I probably would've noticed even without the hearing."

"She was shaken up by whatever happened in there, it didn't have anything to do with you."

"And yet she had no problem letting you go near her, trusting you."

Elektra looked down briefly, his words striking an unintentional chord. "She doesn't trust me though, at least not as much as I thought she did."

"Why would you think that?"

"Because if she did, if she really trusted me, then we'd know what was wrong, she wouldn't be trying to hide it."

Matt shook his head, his own worries temporarily forgotten as he worked to alleviate the pain he heard in her voice. "It's not a matter of trust and you know that. It's about not looking weak."

Knowing she wasn't convinced, he continued with his explanation, determined to make her understand. "In the beginning, right after Abby moved in, how many times did you catch her crying into her pillow and hoping you wouldn't notice?"

Elektra considered this for a moment. In truth, the number was so high that she couldn't even begin to count. Realizing from her silence that his point had been made, Matt voiced his next question.

"And of all those times, how often did she come to you? Or let you come to her?"

She was silent again, understanding now what Matt was trying to say. Yes, she'd spent many nights comforting the girl, but more often then not, Abby chose to shut down, deal with things herself without help from either of them.

"Exactly," Matt said, in reference to her continued silence. "She's like we were."

"You mean like I was," Elektra corrected.

Matt shrugged. "Either way it comes down to the same thing. Abby does trust you; it's just a matter of time before she talks."

"Except we don't have time, not anymore. With everything that's going on we…"

She trailed off suddenly; eyes taking on a far away look that Matt couldn't see, but still knew was there. He could practically hear the gears turning in her head.

"What?" He prodded impatiently. "What are you thinking?"

Elektra bit her lip, a feeling of dread threatening to overtake her. "Remember what happened after Mark died, how Abby was seeing things, how she knew what Bullseye was doing?"

"Yeah," Matt replied, afraid to know where she was going with this. "What about it?"

"What if it's happening again?"

"It's not. She'd tell us if it was."

"Would she? Abby thinks he's dead, Matt. Why think it was Kimagure if she believes he's already gone?"

Matt shook his head in denial, not ready to contend with Bullseye again. He couldn't handle it, not right now. "He's dead, we were right there when it happened."

"So where's the body? Why steal it if not to bring him back?"

"I don't know but why would The Hand even bother with him? Why go to the trouble after he failed them?"

Elektra didn't answer for a moment, a strange idea taking root in her mind. Finally she said, "Unless it wasn't The Hand."

Matt raised a questioning eyebrow. "Who else could it be then? Who else brings people back from the dead?"

"Who else do you know that wants us dead?"

Matt looked away, fiddling nervously with his glasses. "Are you suggesting that Fisk stole the body? He's been in prison, and even if he could pull it off, he wouldn't be able to bring Bullseye back, there's no way."

"But what if there was? I mean there are drugs right? Drugs that slow down your body functions to a point mimicking death."

"I would've been able to tell."

"Okay, so maybe there's a medical treatment that-"

"Look," Matt spoke over her, "I think we're jumping the gun here. It's been months, and I haven't found any proof that Bullseye's even alive."

There was a pause, then, "You didn't find any proof about me either."

This time it was Matt who turned white as a sheet, hand clenching painfully into the leg of his jeans. Swallowing audibly, he walked quickly toward the exit door, heading back into the stairwell.

"It's almost dark, I need to leave."

Elektra was shocked by both the lack of emotion in his voice as well as her own stupidity. Grabbing his wrist, she caught him with his hand on the door.

"Matt, I'm sorry. I wasn't thinking-"

"Forget it," he interrupted. "Just…just keep an eye on Abby and see if you can't get a hold of Stick."

He tried to pull away, but Elektra held fast. "I don't think you should go."

"I have to."

"You've barely slept in over a week."

"Sleep is overrated. Besides, you know how it is here, one night without a patrol and every thug in the neighborhood thinks it's a free for all."

"Matt-"

"I need to leave," he repeated.

"No, no you don't. Just stay, please."

If it were possible, Matt stiffened even further. She knew he couldn't deny her when she used that voice, used those words. It was her ace in the hole. Not quite a manipulation, but a play at his emotions nonetheless. She knew he would stay, just like the first time, just like always.

"No. Not tonight."

This time he did pull away, voice raised in sudden anger. "I have to go Elektra. Just drop it and stop yelling would you? My head feels bad enough as it is."

Elektra watched as he disappeared down the stairwell, metal door slamming loudly behind him. The apartment was already empty by the time she got there, playing and replaying their conversation in her mind. Eventually, she realized two things, neither of which she knew what to make of.

One was that she'd forgotten to ask him who was on the phone and, given their social habits, there were only a limited number of possibilities. So either he'd forgotten to tell her, which was more then possible considering all that was going on, or he'd intentionally avoided telling her.

The other realization revolved around his final words before leaving. Beyond the hurt that came from knowing that he'd left her, Elektra knew for a fact that she hadn't yelled once during their exchange, nor had she even raised her voice.

Something wasn't right.

* * *

Daredevil leapt from one of the area's taller buildings, barely snagging a flagpole on the way down. The endless noises of the city pounded relentlessly against his sensitive ears, somehow seeming even louder then usual/

A couple in a third floor apartment were arguing, the woman angered by her boyfriend's drinking habits.

Someone was watching a rerun of The Sopranos.

A woman gossiped to her neighbor about the new tenant.

Bon Jovi's latest single blared from an old car stereo.

The sounds overwhelmed him, throwing off his concentration. Landing too hard on a nearby building, Matt winced as a jolt of pain traveled up his knee.

What was this? It had started just before he left Elektra and continued to intensify ever since.

Elektra. He hadn't told her about Ben's call. God would she be pissed. Remembering her threat in bed the previous night, he wondered if it wouldn't be better to skip town. Except she'd no doubt hunt him down, and things would be that much worse.

Fisk. Fisk was-no, he didn't want to think about Fisk. Bullseye. Bullseye might be alive. Great, wouldn't that be the icing on the cake? Abby was scared of him. Abby was-

The horn of a semi pierced through his eardrums. Another hard landing. At least he hadn't landed on the same knee. Or maybe that wasn't such a good thing, now they both hurt.

A kid, no older then sixteen, brokering a drug deal. He should go down there, except he didn't think he could. His radar-everything was so damn scrambled, so loud. Why was it all so loud? When he got back home, he'd have to go in the tank for a bit. The tank made of cold steel he'd used to shut out the world before Elektra came back. She wouldn't like that, he knew. Elektra hated that thing, said it reminded her of a coffin.

He'd stopped moving now, hands clamped tightly over his ears in a futile attempt to block the sound. With his mind wandering, his hearing overloaded with too much input, he didn't notice the person who'd been trailing him from a distance, carefully observing his every move.

He didn't notice the attack coming either, not until it was far too late.


	6. Chapter Six

Love Me When I'm Gone

Chapter Six

For one wild, surreal moment, he thought it was Elektra. The familiar sound of sais spinning in rapid motion somehow cut through the haze of conflicting noises just before the first kick.

The high heeled boot crashed into his cheek with enough force to send him reeling backwards, tasting his own blood. Before he could even think to counterattack, Matt felt a white hot pain in the back of his neck.

The woman-he knew it was a woman because of the boot-had somehow gotten behind him, attacking one of his nerve centers. Barely twenty seconds in and he was already having to fight to remain conscious. Radar still scrambled, he reached for the cane at his side. Hoping to catch her off guard, he swung in a wide arc, but managed to hit nothing but air.

Then, as suddenly as all this had started, it stopped. His eardrums no longer pulsed in agony and slowly, very slowly, his 'vision was coming back into focus. As the pain began to subside he looked in first one direction, then the other. Checking everywhere, listening for any sign, Matt was now utterly confused. The woman, whoever she was, was now gone.

* * *

"Thank God," Elektra breathed as he stumbled into their bedroom window a short time later."

Face twisting in a grimace of pain, Matt threw off his mask and headed for the master bathroom with Elektra close behind.

"What happened? I was about to come after you but-"

"You didn't want to leave Abby alone," he finished for her, gingerly splashing cold water against his face. "It's okay," he added, "_I'm_ okay."

"Right, that's why you're bleeding all over the sink. Let me see that."

"No," he said firmly, "I'll be fine, I just need a minute."

"You're limping."

Shoot, he'd hoped she wouldn't notice that. "I had a hard landing." Or three. Hoping to distract her, he attempted to switch gears. "You mentioned coming after me, how'd you know something was wrong?"

"Forget about that. You wouldn't be back so early if there _wasn't_ something wrong, so what happened?"

Sighing in resignation, Matt began stripping himself of the suit as he spoke. "My hearing went crazy. It was like..." He stopped, reluctant to voice the next part, yet knowing that he had no choice. "It was like that thing Bullseye used on me, except different."

"What do you mean?"

"Remember when we fought him last; he had that device on his belt? It was similar to that, but more gradual. Instead of happening all at once it kept building and building until I couldn't tell up from down."

"Are you saying Bullseye did this?"

"No, no it was someone else, a woman. I actually thought it was you for a second."

"What?"

"She had sais, used them the same way you do, except she didn't use them."

"Matt, you're not making any sense."

Another deep sigh as he forced himself to go through the whole story. "She could've stabbed me, but she didn't. All she did was knock me around a little, then she took off and my radar went back to normal."

"But why do that? Why come after you and then just leave?"

Matt shook his head as he climbed into the shower, letting the hot water soothe his aching muscles. "I have no idea, but then again what else is new?"

Elektra didn't respond, too preoccupied with the blood pooling by the drain. "You really should let me look at that gash."

"It's no big deal. I think she might've kicked a filling lose but like I said, what else is new?"

Neither spoke for a moment, Elektra waiting to see whether or not he would bring it up. After a few minutes of this, she decided to broach the topic herself.

"Who called before?"

Bracing himself against the wall, Matt debated the merits of simply pulling the tooth and being done with it. "Ben. Apparently Fisk isn't going to be hiding out much longer. He's reopening Fiskcorp as a charitable organization."

"You can't be serious."

"Wish I wasn't, believe me. He's also been hobnobbing with some pretty powerful government figures, which is supposedly where he's getting the money to do this."

"Well that's great. If everything else wasn't bad enough, now he's got the rich and powerful on his side."

Matt was surprised that she didn't seem angrier, but attributed it to her being just as emotionally drained as he was. Besides, knowing her, he was sure the anger would come up full force sometime in the near future.

Not wanting to dwell on yet another problem, Matt asked his own question. "Did you talk to Stick?"

Elektra let out a frustrated sigh, mentally slapping herself. "I was going to and then…" She trailed off, then started again. "I was worried about you."

The last was said in a near whisper, and Matt realized for the first time how hard it must have been for her. If circumstances were different, she no doubt would've left to find him without a second thought, but he knew she'd made the right choice. It would be all too easy for Fisk to take his revenge if Abby were left unprotected.

"Look," he said softly,, "Call him now, let him know what's happening. I'll feel a hell of a lot better once Abby's as far away from him as she can get."

Elektra nodded and went for the phone, but her mind was elsewhere. Specifically, on Matt's mystery attacker and why she'd let him go.

* * *

After he'd cleaned up and changed into more comfortable clothes, Matt found himself in the hallway between the bedroom and living room, unsure what his next move should be. Abby had come out to the kitchen just as he finished showering and was now busy preparing a sundae. Torn between not wanting to spook the girl yet needing to know what had happened, the choice was taken out of his hands a few moments later.

"You can quit with the lurking in the shadows thing, unless you get some weird enjoyment out of watching me eat."

The words were tinged with her usual sarcasm, but nothing else. No fear in her voice or bodily reactions, which somehow made Matt feel a thousand times better. He may not know what had caused the episode earlier, but at least she was no longer terrified of him. Joining her in the kitchen, he grabbed a bowl from the cupboard before pulling up a stool next to her.

"You look like hell," Abby stated bluntly after taking in his bandaged cheek and limping gait, as well as the worry lines creasing his face.

Matt nodded in mock seriousness, eyebrows going up to his hairline. "Thanks," he said dryly. "Good of you to let me know."

Abby shrugged, scooping up three scoops of ice cream for him before going for the chocolate syrup. "Just being honest."

"I see. Well as a friend, can I suggest that you steer clear of a career in motivational speaking?"

"I'll take it under advisement," Abby replied jokingly, borrowing a phrase she'd heard from Foggy.

Matt smiled lightly, raising his eyebrows again as he listened to her squeeze the bottle for what seemed an exceedingly long time.

"Out of curiosity, is there a spot on there that you didn't smother with chocolate syrup?"

Abby checked, saw that yes, there was a small portion of white left, and promptly emptied the last of the bottle onto it.

"If you're just going to do that, why get vanilla at all? Why not chocolate?"

"Because it tastes better this way," she answered, reaching for a can of whipped cream. She offered it to him after dumping on a generous portion for herself, then looked at him as though he'd committed a sacrilege when he declined. Blind or not, Matt could read her expressions almost as well as Elektra could.

They ate in silence for a few minutes, the clink of spoons against bowls the only sound in the room. Matt finished half his ice cream before asking the question he'd very consciously avoided thus far.

"So, you want to tell me what happened before?"

Her heart rate jumped slightly, followed by heavy silence, then, "No, not really."

It took every ounce of willpower he had, but instead of pushing for more, Matt simply nodded. Elektra would've kept at it, he knew, but that didn't mean he could. There was a fundamental difference between Abby's relationship with him and her relationship with Elektra, and it was for that reason he let the answer go without question.

Elektra could push for things; find out what was wrong as a parent might because they had that element of a mother/daughter relationship. There were others of course, but that was definitely one of them, which meant that Elektra could do things with Abby that he'd never be able to. He was smart enough to know that if he were to act like a parental figure, like a father, then Abby would do nothing but resent him. So he settled for being her friend, the one who didn't ask questions only listened and offered the occasional bit of advice. Matt wasn't bothered by this role in the least, too content in the fact that her initial dislike of him was no longer an issue.

When he didn't say anything and she was sure that that was the end of it, Abby resumed the gentle banter of earlier.

"So, Elektra still making my reservation at Hotel De Ninja?"

Matt chuckled briefly at her name for Stick's compound before answering. "Afraid so. She's on the phone with him now. It won't be for long, trust me."

"Uh huh. Ten bucks says this is just a way to get rid of me for awhile so you guys can have the place to yourselves."

"I know you don't like it there, but for right now-"

"Why can't I just stay with Foggy?"

Matt sighed in exasperation. "One, you'd be in more danger there then here. Two, the last time we left you alone with him I never heard the end of it."

"It's not my fault he can't play cards."

"No, but it's your fault that you cheated."

"I won it fair and square! If he wants to bet three hundred bucks in one night then that's his business."

"You were counting the cards."

"See, that's just not fair. You can't blame me for that, it's a medical disorder."

"What are you talking about?"

Abby rolled her eyes at him. "I count everything, it's part of the OCD. Elektra does it too; she just waits 'til you're not around."

Matt couldn't help but be intrigued. "What do you mean?"

"Why do you think she stopped buying Fruit Loops for breakfast? It's because she couldn't stop arranging them by color every time she looked at them. Same thing with the Lucky Charms."

Matt laughed heartily, his first real laugh in days, carefully filing the information away for later use. By this time, the ice cream had long since melted, so Matt took both their bowls and dumped them in the sink. As he was about to leave the room, Abby called him back with one final question.

"I don't suppose you could actually tell what's going on that I have to be shipped away?"

Matt thought for a moment, then said, "I'm not sure that would be such a good idea."

"Why not?"

"Because Elektra doesn't want you to know, and I don't want to be back in her doghouse for telling you."

"She was mad at you? For what?"

Matt laughed at the level of interest in her voice. "Never mind, just know that we'll take care of it."

"Take care of what?"

Impulsively, Matt walked over and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "Don't worry about it. I think everything's going to be okay now."

And he did. Abby had made him laugh, reminded him what he was fighting for. Restored his faith. Having that back made him sure that they could indeed beat whatever the Kingpin had in store for them.

* * *

"Everything's set up?" He asked the next day as he smoothed the wrinkles from his suit jacket.

"Yeah,, flight leaves at six."

"Good," Matt replied. "How do I look?"

"Apart from that big ugly bandage on your face? Fantastic."

"No see, the bandage is good. It creates sympathy with the jury. Makes them think the poor blind guy fell down on his way to work."

"I don't know how you plan on going to court today. You said you barely had time to look at the case."

"I know, E, but it's my case. I insisted that we take it on. Besides, I've made Foggy do enough of my work the last couple days."

Elektra nodded in acceptance, but couldn't help feeling uneasy as Matt gave her a light kiss goodbye.

"Love you," he murmured in her ear.

"I know," she responded, resting her forehead against his for a brief moment before releasing him. He began to walk out; snagging his briefcase on the way, but the sound of his name being called stopped him.

"Matt?"

"Yeah?"

Elektra shook her head. "Nothing, never mind."

"Okay," Matt answered, somewhat confused by her behavior. "I'll see you this afternoon then."

"Yeah, good luck."

* * *

It was an hour later, and Elektra was rapidly losing patience with the girl in front of her.

"Abby, I told you to pack the necessities."

"This is all necessary," Abby defended herself, gesturing toward the pile of bags at her feet. "I have to find some way to keep myself busy."

"So meditate."

"I suck at that and you know it."

"All the more reason to practice."

They were interrupted by the phone ringing, cutting off the argument before it could go any further. Grateful for the respite, Elektra headed into the living room, grabbing the phone off the kitchen table.

"Hello?"

Silence on the other lend, then what sounded like a choked sob from Foggy.

"E?" He questioned, sounding as though he were barely holding himself together.

"Foggy? Foggy, what's wrong?"

Another strangled sobbing noise. "You-you'd better get down here, Elektra."

"Where? Where are you Foggy?"

"The office, you need to come to the office."

"Foggy, Foggy just slow down. What's going on? Where's Matt?"

"Oh God. Elektra he-there was a-"He broke off again, sending Elektra's already rising panic level even higher.

"Foggy? Damn it Foggy, tell me where he is! Where's Matt?"

The urgency in her voice seemed to bring him back under control, at least long enough to tell her what she needed to know.

"E, he's…he's dead. He's gone, Elektra.

And with that final statement, Foggy Nelson burst into tears.

**Author's Note: **Okay, I put this at the bottom because I didn't want to spoil anything by saying this: PLEASE DON'T KILL ME! But do send me your reviews, even if you do use them to threaten to kill me. Just remember, if I'm dead, then this story will never get finished. So please, put down the pitchforks and bare with me for a little while. That's it, put the guns away…good.


	7. Chapter Seven

**Author's Note: **Yay, I'm still alive! Okay, since you guys didn't murder me after all, I think you deserve a reward. Do you know what it is? That's right, you guessed it. A new chapter! Actually, it's not so much a reward as a self preservation technique. I'm pretty sure that if I left this unfinished now, one of you guys might actually hunt me down. Anyways, read, review, and review. Wait, did I already say review? Oh well, just do it anyway. It stimulates my creativity.

Oh, one more thing, the final scene with Elektra and the punching bag was inspired by a scene in Daredevil issue #14, written by David Mack.

Love Me When I'm Gone

Chapter Seven

The gods were mocking her.

At least that's what Elektra would've thought if she actually believed in any sort of higher power. The only contact she'd had with religion came from Matt, and he was gone now.

The day they buried him was beautiful, sun shining, a gentle breeze, not a cloud in the sky. The complete antithesis of stereotypical funeral weather, this unusually perfect day was in stark contrast to her mood.

The nonexistent gods were apparently not without a sense of humor.

Elektra barely heard the words of the priest, aware of Foggy standing to her right with Abby flanking her left only in the vaguest possible sense. This whole situation seemed completely unreal which, given the circumstances, was probably a good thing. Unreality meant numbness, and numbness meant a temporary reprieve from the pain lurking just below the surface.

"You ready to go?"

Elektra blinked hard, realizing for the first time that, with the exception of herself, Foggy, and Abby, everyone had left. Not that there had been many people there in the first place. Ben Urich had shown up, along with Karen Page, the secretary from Matt's office. There were a few others too, but for the most part it was just the three of them.

"E," Foggy repeated gently, "We should probably-"

"You two go ahead, I'll catch up." Not knowing why she felt the need to explain herself further, Elektra added, "I just need a minute."

Foggy nodded in understanding, giving her shoulder a light squeeze before leading Abby toward the cemetery gates.

Once alone, Elektra stood motionless, eyes fixed on the coffin that held Matt's body. It'd been a closed casket funeral. The alternative wasn't even an option.

"_Foggy, where is he?"_

_There were too many cops, too many people crowding the sidewalk outside the office for her to see clearly. Foggy had been talking to the police when she arrived, but now stood before her, blocking her view of whatever lay beyond._

"_Elektra, you really shouldn't-"_

_Ignoring him completely, she tried to move past but, showing surprising speed for a man his size, Foggy blocked her again. Elektra resisted the urge to shove him out of the way, though how she did so remained a mystery._

"_Get out of my way, Foggy, I need to-!"_

"_No, Elektra." Placing his hands on her arms in a restraining manner, he either disregarded or forgot about the fact that she could have him on the ground and unconscious in half a second if she so chose. "Trust me; you don't want to see him, not…not the way he is now."_

The feeling that someone was watching her brought Elektra back to the present. Turning around, she half expected to find Wilson Fisk staring back at her, gloating over his victory. There was no one in her immediate line of sight, however, on closer inspection she noticed a figure standing off in the distance. Squinting her eyes against the glare of the sun, it took a moment for her to realize who the man was.

Stick was looking straight at her, dressed in black from head to toe. Had he been there the whole time? Probably, she just hadn't been paying attention. He took a step forward as if to approach her, but she was already up and headed in the opposite direction before he could do more then that. She couldn't talk to him right now, it just wasn't possible.

"_I'm sorry, Elektra."_

_Sorry? What did he mean sorry? And why did he sound like that? _

"_There was too much damage."_

_Too much damage? What the hell was he talking about? He'd saved her hadn't he? Her whole goddamn spine had been sticking out and he'd saved her, so how could there be too much damage now?_

No, she couldn't talk to him, didn't want to talk to him. In fact, there were only two people Elektra wanted to see at that moment, and one of them was lying in a coffin a few feet in front of her. The other person didn't really count, because when she saw Wilson Fisk again, talking was going to be the last thing on her mind.

As Elektra walked back to where Abby and Foggy still waited, she again reflected that the gods sure had an interesting sense of humor.

The previously cloudless sky had opened up and it began to pour.

* * *

_Blood. _

_Matt's blood. _

_All over her hands. _

_There was so much on the pavement surrounding him that Elektra couldn't believe there was any left. _

_But there was, oh was there ever. It stained her shirt, covered her fingertips…_

"Elektra?"

She jumped at the sound of her name, hands flying from the scalding hot water and leaving the sink a sudsy mess.

"Sorry," Foggy said from the bathroom doorway.

"No, it's okay. I was just…thinking."

Actually she'd been trying to get the blood off her hands but despite the fact that she'd practically scrubbed them raw, it was still there. At least it was to her.

Reaching to turn off the sink, she dried her hands on a nearby towel before giving Foggy a weak attempt at a smile. "Sorry, I guess I zoned out for a minute there."

"Don't be, I just wanted to make sure you were okay."

Foggy grimaced as the words came out, knowing how dumb they sounded, but Elektra didn't seem to mind. Leading her back to the living room, he watched her glance around a few times as if looking for something.

"Where's Abby?"

"Went to her room. Said she was going to bed. I didn't bother telling her it was five in the afternoon."

Elektra sighed, dropping heavily onto the couch. "Has she talked to you at all?"

"You mean since it happened? I guess that depends on how you define 'talk.'" At her raised eyebrow he continued, "The best I could get was her saying she was fine and not looking at me. I did manage to get a complete synopsis of every episode of Lost ever made last time I tried though, but something tells me that's not what you're looking for."

Elektra shook her head, shoulders slumping. Three days and Abby had barely said a word. Neither had she, really, but then again she was running on autopilot, hardly able to function herself.

Giving her a long, appraising stare, Foggy disappeared into the kitchen, returning a moment later with two glasses and a bottle of vodka. Placing one glass in front of her, he filled it with a generous amount before doing the same for himself and sitting down next to her on the couch.

Elektra eyed the drink doubtfully. "I really shouldn't."

"Well I sure as hell should, and I'd hate to steal your booze without sharing. " Without waiting for an answer, he tilted the glass to his mouth, making a face as the liquid burned his throat. "Oh come on E, it's not like we haven't drank together before."

That was true enough. She, Foggy and Matt had spent more then a few nights downing shots, Elektra listening in amusement as they recalled old stories from their college days. The three of them had had fun, together, rare moments of doing nothing but enjoying each other's company, sharing a few jokes, and celebrating their friendship. Those nights had been much too few, and now they'd never be again, at least not without Matt.

That thought made her chest tighten. Oh what the hell? It was a special occasion anyway. Without thinking, she grabbed the drink, downing it in one gulp before going for a refill. She liked to avoid alcohol for the most part, for all the obvious reasons. It impaired judgment, slowed reaction time, but who cared? She wasn't going anywhere and she'd have to drink quite a few more of these before it even began to affect her.

"So," Foggy began, "I know this is a stupid question, but how are you holding up?"

Elektra thought for a moment, rubbing a hand across her tired eyes. "Okay I guess, all things considered."

"You looked like you were trying to rub your skin off back in the bathroom."

Sighing, Elektra closed her eyes tightly to stop the threat of oncoming tears. "I just…"

"What?" Foggy asked softly.

"I can't stop thinking about it, seeing him like that. And I know you were trying to protect me, stop me from seeing it but-"

"Hey, don't even go there. I should be thanking you for not slugging me, I know you wanted to."

Elektra remained silent almost a full minute, then, "He deserved better then that." It felt odd to be saying that Matt deserved a better death, but it was true. He'd been a hero, he should've at least died like one.

Sinking deeper into the cushions, Foggy reached for his drink. "I know, it's not right."

They lapsed into silence after that, drowning their sorrows for almost an hour before Foggy declared his need to leave. As she walked him to the door, Foggy paused and gave her another assessing look.

"You know, you don't have to be here tonight. Both of you are welcome to stay at my place for as long as you need."

"Thanks, I think we're okay, but that reminds me, you might want to leave town for awhile. After what happened with Bullseye-" But Foggy shook his head emphatically, cutting her off mid-sentence.

"Uh uh, no way. That son of a bitch killed Matt, and I'm going to help you take him down. Even if that just means keeping the law office going while you kick his ass, I'm not running away."

The smile she gave him was weak, but real, encouraging him to go on. "There's something else too." He took a deep breath, feeling as though he were venturing into dangerous territory. "After you-after we thought you'd died, Matt…he kind of shut down, closed himself off even more then he usually did. Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I'm here if-if you ever want to talk or-or need anything."

Feeling somewhat awkward, Foggy stared at the floor, unsure what Elektra's reaction would be. He knew she didn't like asking for help, probably because she hardly ever needed it but-

His worries disappeared a moment later as she pulled him into a brief hug, kissing his cheek as she did so. He saw the gratitude in her eyes as they separated.

"Thank you Foggy, for everything. You were like a brother to him, and I don't think I ever thanked you for being such a good friend to me, especially the last couple days."

Now it was Elektra's turn to be uncomfortable, but Foggy's gentle smile quickly banished the feeling.

"You're welcome. Just remember you're not alone in this okay?"

"Yeah, I will."

They exchanged goodbyes one last time before Foggy headed downstairs to hail a cab, leaving Elektra with nothing but her thoughts, none of which were particularly comforting.

* * *

WHAM!

The punching bag flew backward as she laid into it yet again. After Foggy's departure, she'd tried talking to Abby, but had no success. Peeking into the teen's unlocked room, Elektra saw the girl was feigning sleep, and doing a rather terrible job at it. When she'd called her on it, Abby had begged to be left alone and Elektra had let her be.

Sleeping was an impossibility, despite how thoroughly exhausted she was, so Elektra found herself in the training room, taking out all her rage and frustration on the bag in front of her. Ignoring the throbbing in her hands, she lashed out, the chain affixing the bag to the ceiling creaking in protest.

WHAM!

Without wanting it to, Elektra found her mind drifting off, back to that sidewalk in front of the office. Had it only been three days ago? It didn't seem possible, but yes, she thought it had.

_She couldn't take this. Foggy didn't know, didn't seem to remember that Matt still had a chance, but that time was running out. This time she did push him away, along with about twenty other bystanders eager to see the show._

_Her eyes were immediately drawn to the blood. Blood and…something else. She knew what it was, but her mind wouldn't fill in the blank. Their were ambulance lights flashing, police guarding the body, and somewhere in the background Foggy was talking to her._

"_He put his hands over his ears like he was in pain. It just came out of nowhere, Elektra; it just came out of nowhere."_

_The cops tried to keep her away, but she still saw it. Matt, lying on the ground, with a bullet hole through the right side of his skull. His face was still relatively intact; leaving no doubt that it was in fact him. Elektra now registered that the something else on the sidewalk was brain matter._

WHAM!

WHAM!

Elektra continued her assault, hitting the bag again and again. She kept her head down as the tears blurred her vision. Still, she kept hitting.

"_I'm sorry, Elektra."_

Too much damage. There was too much damage.

"_He's dead. He's gone, Elektra."_

Matt was dead.

Forever.

Gone.

WHAM!

WHAM!

WHAM!

Elektra fell to her knees, harsh, choking sobs escaping before she could stop them. She was going to be sick. For the first time in who- knew- how -long, she was going to throw up.

Sprinting to the bathroom, she made it just in time. The small amount of food Foggy had forced her to eat earlier that day rocketed up her throat as she shook uncontrollably, dry heaving until there was absolutely nothing left. Afterward, she leaned sideways against the wall, sure she was about to pass out.

It was then that she noticed the liquid running down her hands. Eventually, she came to realize that the autopilot she'd been running on must have taken a vacation, because she'd forgotten to wear gloves. It seemed impossible, to hit so hard for so long without feeling the pain as her knuckles split apart, but Elektra had done just that.

For the second time in two days, her hands were covered in blood.

Damn the nonexistent gods and their sick sense of humor.


	8. Chapter Eight

**Author's Note: **All right, I'll be the first to admit that this chapter isn't the most interesting thing I've ever written. However, it's necessary to get to the good stuff, and I hope you'll get at least some enjoyment out of it. Review, review, review, as it helps me to keep going, and thanks for those who are still reading even though I committed the ultimate evil in chapter six.

Love Me When I'm Gone

Chapter Eight

They needed a new couch.

When more time had passed and things got back to some semblance of normality, she was definitely investing in a new couch.

She hadn't minded it much before, but after sleeping on it during the long nights following the funeral, Elektra was now painfully aware of how uncomfortable that particular piece of furniture was. Of course, she hadn't slept on it _that _much, but the time she did spend on it was miserable. Or maybe it was just because _she_ was miserable in general.

Not that she hadn't tried sleeping in their bedroom, because she had, it simply hadn't worked out. The problem was that it was _their_ bedroom, not hers, and it had been his long before she came into the equation. Everything in that room served as a constant reminder of Matt's absence. As if she could forget. The same could be said for the whole apartment really, but the bedroom was by far the worst. Maybe she'd get a new bed too? But no, she couldn't do that. There were too many-

A door creaked in the hallway, bringing Elektra back to reality. Sitting up on the soon -to –be- gone couch, Elektra saw Abby peek her head into the living room, then, on seeing her awake, try to make a quick escape back to the confines of her room. She never had a chance.

"Abby," Elektra called. "Come here a minute would you?"

The request was friendly enough, there was no hint of anger or irritation, yet the teen hesitated. She knew what was coming and would have preferred to delay it a little longer. Unfortunately, she'd slipped up and now it was time to face the music. Looking as though she were taking her last steps before execution, Abby walked slowly into the room, coming to stand in front of Elektra.

"What?" She asked, sounding more resigned then anything else.

Elektra raised an eyebrow, patting a spot next to her on the couch. With a tired sigh, Abby sat where she'd indicated, trying not to tense as the older woman slung a companiable arm over her shoulder.

"You haven't left your room since the funeral."

The girl hung her head, hating the tone of concern that Elektra only seemed to use with her. "I was studying."

"Huh," Elektra said neutrally. "Since when do you study?"

"Since…since forever."

"Uh huh. In all the time you've lived here I've never once seen you study anything." That was definitely true. Abby never bothered preparing for quizzes or tests, but neither she nor Matt had ever called her on it because the kid somehow managed to pull straight A's. Much as Abby would sometimes complain about it, being a child prodigy did have certain advantages.

"You're worried because I care about my schoolwork?"

"No, I'm worried because in the space of a week, you've said something like ten words."

"I'm training to be a mime."

It was times like these when Elektra was most reminded of Mark, how he'd deal with and react to certain situations involving his daughter. And though she'd known him all too briefly, Elektra was pretty sure Mark would understand the exasperation that was starting to creep over her.

"No jokes, Abbs, not now."

"Who's joking? I've seen it loads of times, and Matt told me to stay away from public speaking so-"

She stopped abruptly, realizing too late what she'd said. Throat suddenly tight, Abby stood up from the couch and headed for the kitchen. Needing something to busy herself, the teen threw open the cabinet containing the glasses, surprised when she found the dinner plates instead.

"You rearranged the cabinets."

Elektra nodded in embarrassment. The amount of hours she'd slept since the shooting was roughly the same as the number of words Abby had spoken. During that time, she'd alphabetized the books, scrubbed the bathroom spotless three different times, and removed every last speck of dust from the apartment. All this came after the punching bag had fallen from its chain and Elektra had been too depressed to put it back up.

Worse then that, Foggy had come over the day after her breakdown in the training room, and thus seen her bandaged hands. For a minute, she was sure he thought that she'd made some very sloppy suicide attempt the previous night. Then his face had cleared somewhat, and she knew he'd realized suicide wasn't her style, at least not with Abby around. And even if she had tried to kill herself, she was too much of a perfectionist to do such a piss poor job of it.

Abandoning her search for the glass, Abby leaned against the counter, careful to keep her face hidden from Elektra as she fought to keep her emotions in check. Still, the older woman heard the slight hitch in her breath; saw the way her shoulders began to shake.

"Abby," she started, getting up from the couch and crossing the room in long, graceful strides.

"We're out of food."

Elektra froze on the spot. "What?"

"We're out of food," Abby repeated more slowly, glad the distraction seemed to have worked for the moment. When Elektra continued to look at her in confusion, Abby opened the fridge door and pulled out the remainder of its contents. Half a jug of orange juice and a stick of butter. Putting these back so Elektra could see for herself Abby backed away as she checked the freezer as well as the small pantry.

"Why didn't you say something sooner?"

Oh great, the concerned tone had now been replaced by the incredibly guilty one. "Didn't want to bother you," Abby muttered, feeling guilty herself for bringing it up in the first place.

"Didn't want to…?"

Too stunned to even finish the sentence, Elektra glanced up at the clock on the microwave. 8:05. Looked like it was going to be another perfect day.

* * *

"Didn't want to bother me, can you believe that? I've been letting her starve and she didn't want to bother me."

"Stop beating yourself up," Foggy advised as he preceded her into the office.

"How could I do that? What does that say about me?"

"My guess? That you've been under a lot of stress and it's starting to have an effect."

Elektra shook her head sadly, watching as Foggy removed a cardboard box from a shelf behind his desk. "I just…I guess with everything that's gone on I just forgot to eat you know?"

"No, unfortunately I never had that problem. That's why Mom sent me to fat camp the summer before junior high."

His attempt at self deprecation brought a brief smile to her face, one which quickly faded when he handed her the small box of Matt's things. She really should've done this sooner, but it had taken her until today to muster up the courage to even come in here. The image of Matt's body lying dead on the pavement was still fresh in her mind. Stubbornly forcing her thoughts away from that topic, she dropped the box onto a nearby chair, perching herself on the edge of what had been Matt's desk.

"So where is the karate kid anyway?"

"Outside harassing your secretary," she answered dryly.

Foggy waved a hand in dismissal. "Ah, Karen's worked here for years, she's used to it. And not getting paid, she's definitely used to that."

Elektra smiled briefly again, this one fading even quicker then the last. "I've been thinking," she finally said after a moment's pause.

"About?" He prodded when she showed no signs of going on.

"About that day, about how he died."

"Oh," Foggy replied, a hint of discomfort poking into his voice. "And?"

"And…it doesn't make sense. Something's off, not right."

"E,-"

"No just hear me out okay?" Not waiting for an answer, she began pacing the room as she spoke. "Think about this for a second, why would Fisk kill Matt? Yes he wanted revenge, but why do it like this? He knew Matt's secret, possibly everything about him, about both of us."

"So…"

"So why shoot him? Why not expose him to the world, or at least threaten to? Why not blackmail why…why a sniper shot? Of all the things in the world, why a gunshot?"

"E, I don't think-"

"No listen, there are too many things that don't make sense."

"Such as?"

"That woman for one. She had him down, he admitted it himself. Why let him go? Why approach him at all if she didn't plan on finishing the job? And going back to Fisk, why would he stay hidden, why not come out to brag over what he'd done?"

"Maybe because he knew you'd kill him the second you laid eyes on him?"

"But that's not his style. I can't see him hiding without making contact at least once. He showed up at the funeral after he had my father killed for God's sake."

"Yeah, but you didn't know who he was then, he didn't need to worry about you slitting his throat open."

"But a gunshot? I mean, doesn't that seem…anticlimactic to you?"

"That isn't exactly the word I'd use."

"I know, I know., that's not what I meant."

"No, I know what you meant but…"

"But what?"

"What-what are you thinking here? Where's this going? Are you saying that someone else did it or-"

"I don't know, okay? I don't know what I think, except that I'm tired and I…"

"You…?"

Elektra shut her eyes, taking a deep breath before returning her gaze to the man in front of her. "I don't how he ever forgave me."

"E, whatever you did in the past-"

"Foggy I'm not talking about the killing or stabbing him or any of that. I let him believe I was dead. For years, because I convinced myself that he didn't love me, that he couldn't, not after what I did. But if he was feeling even a fraction of what I'm feeling now, then…then I don't know how he ever forgave me."

Elektra was so caught up in what she was saying that she didn't see Foggy's eyes dart to a spot on the wall behind Matt's desk. As she finished, he took a step forward, clasping her hand briefly.

"You shouldn't do this, don't torture yourself, Elektra. He loved you, and he knew how you felt about him. That's all that matters."

Swallowing hard, Elektra gave him a tight lipped look of gratitude. Getting to her feet, she started to grab the box when her features took on a strange expression.

"Foggy, could you do me a favor?"

"Sure," he answered, wondering why it was that she suddenly sounded a million miles away.

"Would you mind hanging with Abby for awhile? I need to check something out."

"Um, yeah, of course. Whatever you need, but why-?"

"Later," was her hurried reply.

"You forgot your…" He made a vague gesture at the box containing Matt's small amount of personal items, but she'd already left. To no one in particular he said, "Okay, don't tell me. That works too."

Alone in the room, Foggy let his gaze travel back to the spot on the wall. The spot where Matt had once slammed his fist so hard that he nearly broke his hand.

"_Jesus man, where the hell have you been?"_

"_I don't want to talk about it, Foggy."_

"_Well I do, Matt! You can't just disappear for months at a time! We thought you were dead!"_

"_Look, I screwed up okay? I went looking for something that wasn't there and I'm sorry. But I'm back now, so can we please just let it go?"_

"_No, damn it! You leave without a moment's notice, don't even bother to check in, then come back three months later and expect everything to be fine? I think at the very least you owe me some kind of explanation!"_

_But he hadn't given one. Instead, he shook his head back and forth, mumbling under his breath. "She never comes to New York. Everywhere else on the whole goddamn planet and she never once comes here. Why is that? Why would she stay away from here unless-"_

"_What the hell are you talking about? Matt, this…is this about Elektra?"_

"_DON'T SAY HER NAME" _

_A crash as he overturned the desk, sending papers, pens, and various other items spilling to the ground. The sound of bone cracking as his fist collided with the wall again and again._

"Foggy?"

He nearly leapt out of his skin.

"Whoa, little jumpy today?"

Turning to face her, he plastered on a fake smile. "Yeah, guess so."

"Elektra says she recruited you for babysitting duty."

"That's what it sounds like."

Abby considered this for a moment, then, "Want to go make faces at the ninja freak guards outside?"

"Ninja freak guards?"

"Sure, they work for that old blind guy she told you about. No offense, but Elektra would never leave me alone with just you. I'm surprised she even did it with them."

"None taken," he responded in bemusement, eyes traveling one more time to the spot on the wall before following her out.


	9. Chapter Nine

**Author's Note: **Yipee, an update that didn't take two weeks or more. Thanks for all your feedback so far, it's been immensely helpful. Enjoy the chapter, and hit that nice little review button when you're done.

Love Me When I'm Gone

Chapter Nine

"This sucks," Abby declared flatly. "You should really consider suing these people."

Sitting opposite her in the booth at the small diner, Foggy heaved a long suffering sigh. "And why is that, though I really don't think I want to know?"

"False advertising, Abby responded promptly. "I ordered cheese fries and there's like, no cheese whatsoever."

"What do you call that," Foggy asked, pointing toward her plate.

"This," she replied, picking up the small plastic cup that he'd indicated, "is cheese _sauce. _There's a big difference. Plus the stuff's not even hot."

"Okay, fine. So call the waitress over and ask for something else."

"You're no fun you know that?"

"Yes, actually. You've mentioned it several hundred times."

"Well it's true. What's the point of having a friend who's a lawyer if you can't use them to sue somebody?"

"Oh quit whining," he said good-naturedly. "You're getting a free lunch aren't you?"

"That doesn't count."

"What? Why the hell not?"

"Because you still owe me from that poker game last month. This is just a way to shave off some of your debt."

"Please, that was not a game."

"What would you call it then?"

"The phrase 'underhanded scheme' comes to mind."

"Give me a break. Learn to double down next time."

Foggy smiled, glad for the return of their easy banter. He watched as the girl turned toward the window, doing a mock salute for the benefit of their silent observers. She followed this up by giving them the finger.

"Hey! Would you stop that already?"

"Lighten up will you? They're just like those guys outside Buckingham Palace, you know, with the hats? The ones who aren't allowed to smile or move or anything?"

"I'm familiar with the concept; I just don't understand why you have to keep antagonizing them."

"Relax, they don't care. I don't even think they speak English."

"Maybe not, but I think that's one of those gestures that transcends language barriers."

"Whatever, can we just talk about something else already?"

"Okay," Foggy replied, voice laced with suspicion. "What's on your mind?"

"Okay, so about that teacher-"

"No."

"No? I didn't even say anything yet."

"We've been over this before; I'm not suing your art teacher."

"Come on! That painting did not deserve an F."

"I saw the thing, Abby, it definitely deserved an F."

"Yeah right, that picture was a masterpiece. I should've gotten a free ride to Julliard with that picture."

"Isn't Julliard an acting school?"

"Technicality. Can't you just do me a favor and _threaten_ to sure him?"

"Can't you just forget about the three hundred bucks you cheated me out of?"

"No!"

"Well, there's your answer then. Besides, he's a teacher, how much could you expect to get out of him?"

A thoughtful expression crossed her face. "Good point, but what about-?"

"I'm not suing your teacher, or your principal, or your lunch lady, or the people who own this place."

"Fine, but when I die because of the rat droppings in the Thursday surprise, it's going to be your fault."

"Don't say that," Foggy replied. It was a joke; he knew that, but the thought of Abby dying hit just a little too close to home given what had transpired.

"Sorry," Abby mumbled, a cloud of despair descending over her.

"Elektra's worried about you," he said quietly, growing tired of the strained silence that had fallen between them.

"Elektra's always worried about me."

Foggy nodded in acknowledgment, noting that her reply hadn't been unkind, simply matter- of- fact. "Can you blame her?"

"Come on Foggy, not you too."

"She says you haven't been talking."

"I'm talking to you aren't I?"

"She also says you've been studying a lot."

"Why is that so hard for everyone to believe? The English teacher told us to read something, I'm reading it."

"So what's the book?"

"Animal Farm."

Foggy grinned inwardly. He remembered reading that one when he was in high school. "What's it about?"

A look of panic flitted across her features, quickly placed by an expression of false confidence. "A bunch of animals that take over a farm."

"And…?"

"And…" The panic was back now. "And there's these pigs."

"And…?"

"And what, you're a friggin' English teacher now?"

"I'm just curious. What else?"

Abby rolled her eyes, then, in a rush of words, "Then the one pig learns how to herd the sheep and they go to this…sheep herding show and win first place."

Foggy stared at her, mouth agape. "Did you-did you just combine Animal Farm with Babe?"

""What," she asked defensively. "That was a good movie."

"How can you compare Animal Farm to Babe?"

"That movie got nominated for a lot of Oscars you know. Besides, they both have talking pigs, it's an easy mistake."

"Actually, none of the pigs in either one really talked."

"Why are you being so damn nitpicky today?"

Point made, Foggy held up his hands in a gesture of surrender.

"This sucks," Abby repeated, breaking yet another prolonged silence.

"I know."

"Can't even get some decent cheese fries anymore."

Foggy nodded agreeably. "Lousy cheese fries, what's the world coming to?"

"I didn't like him you know."

Now he was confused. "Who?"

"Matt," she answered, her tone suggesting the answer should've been obvious. "I didn't like him at first."

Her voice went considerably quieter at that, and she was now refusing to look at him. Unsure what he was expected to say, Foggy opted for silence.

"I broke his stereo once. He had to spend a ton of money on a new one." The somber tone from moments earlier was gone, replaced by something almost akin to pride.

"I know," Foggy confirmed, smiling in spite of himself. "The one thing in his apartment that was actually worth something."

"He's the one who said the speakers couldn't be blown." Abby was smiling too, seemingly quite pleased with herself for having proved him wrong.

As quickly as it came, the smile was gone, leaving behind an expression of unbearable sadness.

"This sucks," Abby declared for the third time, poking listlessly at her barely touched food.

Foggy again nodded in agreement. It wasn't the most eloquent of statements, but it did as good a job as any at summarizing the situation.

* * *

Elektra still didn't know why she was there or what she was expecting to find. She certainly didn't _want_ to be there.

As she drew nearer, Elektra noticed that the space by Matt's tombstone was covered in flowers. Red flowers. Upon reaching it, her eyes confirmed what she'd already known. Roses.

She'd lied before. She knew perfectly well what she expected, or wanted, to find here. Fisk returned to New York to inspect his handiwork. She'd talked to Urich before coming here, but the reporter had heard nothing more about Fisk's whereabouts or his plans to turn over a new leaf.

Right.

"Expect something different?"

Surprised by Stick's approach, Elektra tried not to show it. As the old man came to stand beside her, she resolved to pay more attention in the future. Emotional agony was no excuse for sloppiness.

"What are you doing here, Stick?"

"Paying my respects, what else?"

"You couldn't have done that a week ago?"

"I think you made it clear that my presence would not be welcomed."

"So you've been in the city this whole time? That would explain why you haven't returned my calls."

This last was said with undisguised venom dripping from every syllable. Stick, well used to Elektra's fits of anger, didn't blink.

"Ah, am I to understand that you actually _wanted_ to speak with me?"

"You know perfectly well what I wanted. Where is he, where's Fisk?"

"What makes you think I know?"

"Cut the bullshit Stick. You've got a network of people all over the globe, so don't bother telling me that you don't know the location of one man."

"I understand your frustration, but I'm afraid I can't help you."

"Can't or won't?"

"I'm well aware that you blame me for Murdock's death, but don't let that cloud your judgment."

"I never said I blamed you."

"You've never been particularly good at hiding your feelings either. You know as well as I that Kimagure offers no guarantees."

"Yeah, I figured that out right around the time I had to tell Abby that her father was dead."

"Mr. Miller's death was an unfortunate turn of events, but it could not be helped."

"Couldn't be helped," Elektra repeated mockingly. "Because you had no way of protecting them."

"I made a miscalculation. But may I remind you that you yourself believed they would be safe after Kirigi's death?"

Elektra had no answer to that. She wasn't even sure how the conversation had turned to Mark, only that she was angry, and that Stick was the closest person at hand on which to vent her emotions. "Forget it," she said icily. "Just tell me where Fisk is."

"And your pursuit of him, is that fueled by your need to remove a threat or your need for vengeance?"

"Does it matter? Fisk will come after Abby if I don't get to him first."

"I see. So this is about nothing more then the girl's protection is it?"

"Why should you care what this is about?"

Rather then answering the question, Stick posed one of his own. "Do you really think Murdock would want you basing the rest of your existence on avenging his death?"

Her tenuous grip on control chose that moment to slip.

She slapped him.

. Hard.

"You know what? Don't tell me how to live my life and don't you dare tell me what Matt would or wouldn't want! You didn't know him, you didn't know a thing about him, so don't you ever talk to me about what he would want."

"You'd be surprised with how much I did know," Stick replied, the right side of his face still bearing the imprint of her hand.

Something in his tone stopped Elektra short, some hidden meaning just below the surface that she couldn't quite put her finger on. "What do you mean," she asked, only marginally calmer then before.

But Stick had no intention of continuing this conversation. "Nothing. Bring Abby to The Compound as soon as possible; I know her safety is paramount to you."

With that, he strode off, shouting something over his shoulder as he went.

"Murdock was a good man, Elektra."

She didn't bother trying to catch up with him, knowing that any further questioning would be pointless. Tossing a glance at the rose covered tombstone, she thought for a moment of Stick's parting words.

_Murdock was a good man._

Finally something they agreed on.


	10. Chapter Ten

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the delay folks, this chapter just didn't want to get written. I think my senioritis is starting to affect other things as well. Then I got distracted by prom plans and dog sitting, but Friday is senior skip day, so I'll hopefully be able to get some writing done later that night.

Way back in chapter three, I referenced a conversation between Elektra and Matt that had yet to be written. Well, it's in this chapter, but the idea for it wasn't mine. A lot of it was taken from Daredevil Volume Two, issue thirty-seven, written by Brian Michael Bendis. As always, thanks to those who reviewed and please continue to do so.

Love Me When I'm Gone

Chapter Ten

"How did this happen?"

The deep baritone boomed throughout the large corner office, even though the sentence came in the barest of whispers. The three men to whom the question was directed remained quiet, nearly shaking with fear. That calm, controlled voice did not bode well for any of them.

"How. Did. This. Happen?"

The question came again, each word drawn out for emphasis. Swallowing audibly, Owens, the tallest of the men stepped forward. .

"Sir, we-" Again, he gulped, pausing to wipe the sweat from his brow. "We haven't been able to determine that as of yet, but rest assured, the situation is being handled."

"Handled?"

An impossibly large hand shot out from behind the desk, wrapping itself around Owens' throat. Breath coming in a choked gurgle as his windpipe was crushed in the vice-like grip, Owens was sure he was going to die of a broken neck. He was only half right.

Wilson Fisk hurled his former employee to the other side the room, reveling in the cracking sound that came after his skull hit the nearby wall. James Owens landed in a lifeless heap on the floor, head lolling to the side at an unnatural angle as blood began to seep from his mouth.

The remaining two underlings, who'd had to duck to avoid being hit by the body, now stood stock still as Fisk carefully wiped his hands on the edges of his suit.

"Handled. You see, that's just ridiculous, because if the situation were being handled,then we wouldn't be having this conversation, would we boys?"

Both men shook their heads. "No, sir," they spoke at the same time.

"That's right. Now, I want some answers, and I want them sooner rather then later, or the two of you will join Mr. Owens in his unemployment. Is that understood?"

"Yes sir," came the reply. Again, both men spoke at once.

"Good. I have a meting in ten minutes; get someone to clean this up."

Nodding toward his ex assistant, Fisk walked briskly out of the office, his steps sending miniature shockwaves radiating across the floor.

* * *

In the end, Elektra thought it inevitable that she'd go to the roof. Some of her best and strongest memories of him resided there, memories of another lifetime. It seemed so long ago now, he, the charming but enigmatic stranger who wasn't above using his handicap to pick up strange women in a coffee shop. And Elektra herself? Was it possible she'd still held some hope back then, some small measure of faith in the world around her? Hard as it was to believe, she knew the answer was yes. Standing atop this building in Matt's arms, getting soaked to the skin, there had been nothing but hope, nothing but possibilities.

Skip ahead five years, to the last day of Matt's life. He'd told her he loved her, right before he left. For most couples it wouldn't seem like such a big deal, except that for them it was it was.

During their brief time together, Elektra had never actually told him she loved him, never spoken those all-important words. Not because she didn't feel that way, but for her own foolish reasons, reasons she'd once made a clumsy attempt at explaining. Things were good, better then they'd ever been which, in her mind, meant that they could only get worse. Speaking the words aloud would be an invitation, an invitation for a whole new set of problems to make themselves known.

Matt had understood, or at least said he did, but he'd also told her she'd go crazy if she continued to wait for the other shoe to drop. A little happiness in her life wasn't an automatic indicator of oncoming threats. Never mind the fact that Matt had died ten weeks later.

She was getting off track, an occurrence that was steadily increasing in frequency. Matt had eventually stopped giving overt declarations of love; simply because he knew it made her uncomfortable that she couldn't return them. But he'd told her he loved her on that last day, less then an hour before the murder. Had he known somehow, sensed that something was going to happen?

_If he did, it doesn't matter now._

Damn that inner voice. It was true though. All that hope, those infinite possibilities were gone now. She was alone again.

The creak of the steel door coming open caught Elektra's attention, causing her to turn towards the exit. Framed by the light from the hallway, the figure that stood there was impossibly, achingly familiar.

"Matt?"

He was dressed in blue jeans, black leather jacket covering a matching black shirt. His usual sunglasses were nowhere to be found.

"Matt?" She asked again, confused as to why he hadn't moved. As well as about ten million other things she couldn't even begin to name.

This time he did step closer, reaching her in less time then it took to blink an eye. It was then that she noticed the blood.

Previously camouflaged by the dark clothing, Elektra now saw a red stain near his abdomen, a stain that was growing rapidly larger.

"Oh God."

Matt was watching her, looking directly at her, his expression unreadable as he reached down to cover the wound.

"I'm sorry."

He swayed precariously on the spot and Elektra moved to catch him. Her strength was such that she should've been able to hold him up, or at least slow his fall, but neither of those things happened. He fell to his knees, taking her down with him. His eyes filled with strange flecks of red. Blood, she realized, his eyes were filling with blood.

When she looked down again, Elektra was shocked to find a knife sticking out of his stomach. No, not a knife, a sai. Her sai.

Matt shuddered in her arms, one final, anguished breath escaping his lips before his body went limp, becoming nothing more then dead weight in her lap.

* * *

She didn't scream when she woke up. The closest Elektra got was a sharp intake of air and a slight whimper. Eyes roaming wildly, it took a moment for her brain to register her surroundings.

Couch. Living room. Dream. Just a dream, that's all it was.

Sitting up, Elektra made herself relax, waiting for her breathing to return to something approaching a normal rate. .It was during this time of forced concentration that she heard the music. Turned down to a level that was only faintly audible, the final notes of an electric guitar solo could still be heard coming from the direction of Abby's room.

Squinting at the wall clock (bought after she and Abby moved in) Elektra saw that it was close to four in the morning. Despite the hour, she was thankful for the distraction. Talking to Abby, while it had become extraordinarily difficult, still served as a way to maintain her self control, gave her something to focus on. The nightmare could wait until later, much, much, later. Feeling like a soldier headed off to war, Elektra made her way quietly down the hall. If recent experience was any indication, then the coming discussion wasn't going to be very easy.

She knocked three times before coming in. The girl's bedroom, usually kept semi-clean, now looked more like a federal disaster area then anything else. Books, clothing, shoes, and other miscellaneous items covered most of the available floor space. Abby herself lay sprawled out on the bed.

Picking her way through the mess, Elektra spied the remote for the stereo sitting on the nightstand. Abby didn't bother looking at her until she hit the off button midway through AC/DC's 'Highway To Hell.'

"I was listening to that."

"I know, just like I'm sure you know what time it is."

"Sorry," Abby responded with her usual lack of inflection.

Glancing around the room, Elektra raised an eyebrow at the large pile of empty Gatorade bottles accumulating on the dresser. "I thought you hated those things?"

Answering with a noncommittal sound from the back of her throat, Abby picked up a plush ball from the floor next to her and threw it towards the ceiling. She'd have to return it to Foggy the next time they saw each other.

"How many of those drinks did you have tonight?"

"I don't know, a lot?"

"Okay, let's try something else, _why_ did you have so many?"

"I don't know, because they're better then strawberry flavored water?"

"You're going to crash really hard really soon, I hope you realize that."

"Oh well."

Stifling a groan of frustration, Elektra took a seat at the edge of the bed, watching the ball go up and down as Abby continued to play catch with herself. "You need to go to sleep."

"Can't, too wired."

"Well that's too bad, school's in a few hours."

There was a short, awkward pause, during which Abby stopped throwing the ball, her face contorting into what Elektra immediately recognized as her guilty look.

"What? What did you do?"

"Nothing, I just don't have school tomorrow."

Doing some quick thinking, Elektra confirmed that tomorrow was Tuesday, wasn't a holiday, and, as far as she knew, there were no conferences or teachers' conventions for at least another month.

"What do you mean you don't have school tomorrow?"

"Just what I said, it's a vacation day."

"Don't lie to me, Abby."

"I'm not…exactly."

"You want to expand on that please?"

"Not really."

"Abby."

It was her warning voice, the one that said 'spill it now or suffer my wrath,' the one that not even Abby was foolish enough to ignore.

"Okay, um, here's the thing: I really do have off tomorrow, it's just a different kind of vacation, that's all."

"And what kind of vacation is it exactly?"

"The enforced kind?"

It was said as a question, with Abby throwing the ball up once again while Elektra took in this new bit of information. When she did finally get the meaning, Elektra snatched the ball on its way down, anger and frustration flooding her system.

"You got suspended?"

"Sort of."

"Abby."

"Yeah, but it wasn't my fault. Seriously, Mr. Turndike, he's a Nazi. I think he keeps little kids in his basement and uses them for slave labor."

"Do I even want to know the reason he suspended you?"

"I skipped detention."

"He suspended you for skipping detention one time?"

"No, he suspended me for skipping detention three times."

"I see," Elektra responded tightly. "So, how was it that he ended up giving you detention in the first place?"

"Um, you know that crash you were talking about? Well, it kind of happened in his class the other day."

"And that's the only reason?"

"Well, I may have said some things that weren't entirely school appropriate, but I really did try to edit myself."

"How's that?"

"I said everything in German, but it turns out that he speaks German so… Anyway, I think he's a Nazi, probably Hitler's brother or something. He's definitely old enough for it."

"Wonderful, that's just great. Forgetting all that for a second, what's the real reason for all the sports drinks?"

"I already told you-"

"You're a terrible liar. Now please, please, help me out here. Tell me the truth. You still have the nightmares don't you? You're trying to stay awake."

Closing her eyes tightly, Abby buried her head in the pillow, making her next words muffled. "Can we save the lecture for later, just this once?"

"It's not a lecture."

"Fine, but I'm getting really tired, so would it be cool if we did this tomorrow?"

"Now you're tired all of a sudden?"

"You were the one who said I was going to crash."

Elektra paused, brow furrowed in consideration. She didn't want to let it go, but she also recognized that Abby had shut her out yet again, at least for the time being. And, hard as it was to admit, Elektra simply didn't have the energy for this tonight. She was too distracted, too exhausted, too downright drained to try and force a dialogue with Abby when the girl was fighting so hard against it.

"Okay, we'll talk in the morning, seeing as how you've got a whole day of extra time on your hands."

Before leaving the room, Elektra leaned down, pressing a light kiss onto the side of Abby's head. Taking advantage of their momentary closeness, she whispered softly into the teen's ear.

"We're going to have to deal with this sooner or later, Abbs."

In her mind, she added, _I'm not going to lose both of you._

* * *

Without conscious thought, Elektra found herself in her bedroom for the first time in months. Running a hand over the covers, she climbed into what had been her side of the bed, trying not to think of how massive and empty it seemed now.

For what felt like the millionth time, she was questioning her own judgment. How long was it since she'd last seen Stick, six weeks? No, more like eight. And she hadn't taken him up on his offer, hadn't sent Abby to The Compound. Her reasons felt flimsy, even to herself, but she'd made a mistake, let Abby talk her into staying. There were men keeping watch all the time, Abby said. She didn't want to hide there for who-knew-how-long, she wanted to maintain some kind of a normal life. She didn't want to miss school. (Although that excuse certainly wasn't going to fly anymore.)

"_She's afraid of losing you; afraid you'll drop her there, go after Fisk and end up getting yourself killed."_

"_She told you that?"_

"_Not in those exact words, but doesn't it make sense? She loses both her parents, she knows what happened to you, so she can't pretend you're invincible, and now Matt too. And-be honest-isn't that what you're planning? Get her somewhere safe then take off to find him?"_

That conversation with Foggy at the coffee shop last week had turned out to be quite enlightening. The truth was that she couldn't leave Abby, nor could she take being at Stick's headquarters doing nothing. Or, as Matt would say, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Matt.

Sinking deeper into the mattress, Elektra slung her arm around his old pillow; tried to trick herself into believing it was the real thing. Tried to imagine him lying next to her.

"_Where do you think you're going?"_

_She froze, amazed that careful as she was, Matt had woken anyway. Especially since she hadn't even left the bed yet._

"_I need to get going."_

"_Now? It's…well I don't know what time it is, but its way too early for you to leave."_

_His arm around her tightened possessively, but for once Elektra wasn't bothered in the least._

"_Dad's 'protection' will be wondering where I am."_

"_You're seriously telling me he thinks _you _need bodyguards?"_

"_Unfortunately, and he won't be happy if I'm not at my apartment by the time Strabros gets there."_

"_Was the sex that bad? Because we can work on that. Practice makes perfect you know"_

_He was grinning from ear to ear, and Elektra got the feeling that didn't happen very often. _

"_Why don't you stay, help me take a shower in a few hours?"_

"_Help you? After what I saw the other day, you expect me to believe that you can't shower on your own?"_

_It was so easy to joke with him, so easy to be with him, even though they barely knew each other._

"_I never said I _couldn't _do it myself, I just think it would be a lot more fun with some company involved. Come on, we've got everything we need. Cable, a bed, I think there's some ice cream in the freezer. We could stay here forever if you wanted to."_

"_That's a heck of an offer. Are you always this forward?"_

_He'd laughed at that, an embarrassed chuckle that made her own smile widen. "No, no actually it's usually just the opposite."_

"_Well, forever's a long time, not that it wouldn't be nice."_

"_I'm game if you are."_

So she's stayed. Not forever, not even for the whole night, but for awhile longer. Unbidden, memories of another night in bed with him flashed across her mind.

"_What are you thinking about?"_

"_Honestly? I was thinking that sometimes I really wish you'd have taken me up on my offer."_

"_That was five years ago, you can't be serious."_

"_Come on, you can't tell me you didn't find it even the least bit tempting."_

"_No. Actually, I found it very tempting."_

She couldn't do this, couldn't think of this without the tears coming again.

_Stop. Clear your mind. Don't think. Sleep. That's all, just sleep a little. _

_Can't sleep, don't want to see him again. Can't watch him die again._

_Clear your mind, don't think, don't think…_

It was actually starting to work. She was almost there, almost to a place where the pain wasn't quite so bad. Almost free.

And then she heard the scream.


	11. Chapter Eleven

**Author's Note: **No, your eyes aren't deceiving you, I finally posted. Cue the hallelujah chorus people! I know it's been an eternity or two, but real life has been a little hectic. I've got SO much to do before I graduate. Cue second hallelujah chorus. Anyway, I'm officially done with school in two weeks (cue third hallelujah chorus) then I've got a few weeks before I start working, so hopefully the next update won't take quite so long. Think of it this way, the longer the wait, the more you look forward to the next chapter. (Either that or you just want to kill me more. Hopefully it's the former.) To help speed things along, please hit that little purple button on your way out and let me know what you thought.

Love Me When I'm Gone

Chapter Eleven

It was stupid. A stupid rookie mistake that would make every sensei she'd ever had cringe with disapproval. An entire drawer full of weapons mere feet away and Elektra hadn't grabbed one damn thing. It would've taken just a few extra seconds.

The problem was that once Abby's terrified scream was replaced by a loud thud followed by sounds of a struggle, Elektra couldn't be sure she had those few extra seconds. So she'd sprinted to Abby's room empty handed, probably breaking some kind of short distance speed record in the process. Now, seeing the white spots dance above her eyes, Elektra wished she'd made the side trip to the dresser.

The door had been locked when she got there. She'd kicked it in with one smooth move. Once inside, it took barely a millisecond for Elektra to assess the scene: Abby still on the bed, but this time she was being held there. The figure looming over her and, to Elektra's horror, the glint of a knife catching the moonlight.

The next few moments passed incredibly quickly. The struggle for the knife was brief, Elektra had kicked it from his hand before the intruder was able to do more then blink. Unfortunately, when she moved in for a follow-up attack, she found herself slammed against the wall hard enough to send the air rushing from her lungs.

Yes, an extra weapon or two would be wonderful right about now.

Her assailant (it was only then that she registered the simple black mask blocking his features) moved in Abby's direction again . Then, for no reason Elektra could even begin to fathom, he changed course, disappearing via the window in the corner. In her haste to reach Abby before the knife could do its work, she hadn't even realize the thing was open. Another stupid mistake. She was sure that, had Dad been alive to see this, she'd be treading water in their old pool until she could no longer stay afloat.

Having snapped back into assassin mode with an ease that was almost disturbing, Elektra had to fight the urge to jump out that window herself and hunt down Abby's would-be killer. For now though, there were more important things to be dealt with.

"Abby." Her voice sounded raspy, giving away the fact that she hadn't quite recovered from the wall slam. Coughing a few times, she picked herself up, moving towards the bed. On her way, she glanced at the weapon. She hadn't really bothered to look at it before, her sole objective being to get the thing away from Abby. Now she saw something that once again stole the air from her lungs.

There was blood on the knife.

Before the girl in front of her knew what was happening, Elektra was at her side, frantically checking for injuries, light flooding the room as she turned on a nearby lamp.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Abby murmured trying to wave her off.

Elektra paid no attention; she was too busy searching for the source of that blood. What if there was internal bleeding? Too much damage, that's what Stick had told her after Matt was killed. If Abby died tonight, then that was it. Kimagure wouldn't work a second time; Stick had been very clear on that during the course of her training. Matt was gone. If Abby died tonight, there would be nothing left to live for.

"Where is it," Elektra questioned, firmly tamping down on the panic rising within her. "Where are you hurt?"

Silently, Abby raised her left hand which, until now, she'd kept hidden. "It's fine," she reiterated. "We were fighting for the knife before you got here. It's just a scratch."

Elektra shook her head at that. She and Abby had vastly different ideas about what constituted being fine. Gingerly taking hold of the injured hand, she pressed down hard against the girl's palm, which had been more or less slit open.

Fine indeed.

Without a word, Elektra took hold of the teen's arm. Pulling gently, she helped Abby to her feet, still keeping pressure on the wound. Making her way to the master bathroom, Elektra wasn't too surprised at what Abby said next.

"I told you, it's fine, just a little cut."

Rising an eyebrow, Elektra pulled out a chair from in front of the counter, essentially dragging the girl into it. Her initial worries that the injuries might be fatal now gone, she mentally steeled herself for the job (battle?) ahead of her.

Last year after their final confrontation with Bullseye, Elektra had learned all too quickly of the girl's dislike of hospitals and medical treatment in general. Rethinking it, 'dislike' wasn't really the right word. Detested, loathed, hated with a passion, those were all more accurate terms.

The kid was a pain in the ass to every nurse or doctor who so much as looked like they might enter the room. Elektra thought it good that either she or Matt had always been with her because there were probably quite a few medical professionals who, if given the chance, would've slipped something undesirable into their patient's IV. Honestly, she'd come close to doing it herself a time or two, except that it would've been such a waste, doing all that work to keep her alive then have it all amount to nothing.

The truth was, if Elektra were to let her, Abby would simply slap a piece of duct tape over her hand (or possibly a Band Aid with a smiley face on it, she seemed somewhat fond of those) and be done with it. If Abby had it her way, said hand would be left uncleaned, without proper treatment and, eventually, become infected. Still Abby would refuse any sort of care, preferring instead to wait until the hand got so bad that it required amputation. Then, on the way out of the hospital, after being fitted with some sort of prosthesis, Abby would throw her guardian a dirty look and continue to insist that she was perfectly fine.

An exaggeration? Maybe, but not by much.

Bearing all this in mind, the older woman was shocked when Abby stayed totally silent as her hand was being treated. With the exception of those initial protests (which weren't that strong to begin with) she was utterly compliant.

Elektra was scared to death. Abby Miller behaving like a model patient was, in her mind at least, a sign that Judgment Day was close at hand.

Hands that had snuffed out countless lives now ran gently along the teenager's face, inspecting it from all angles. Elektra had seen the bruises before, the swelling near the jaw line along with the split lip, but they were secondary, painful but non-threatening, so she'd left them for later. Biggest problem out of the way, she could now focus on the smaller injuries.

"Are you okay? Hurt anywhere else?"

"Couple more bruises, nothing serious."

Elektra blinked in surprise. Perhaps it was time to start moving into the fallout shelters. Abby _never _admitted to pain, either emotional or physical, without putting up a fight.

"Let me see."

With only the smallest of hesitations, Abby lifted the bottom of her shirt, exposing the black and blue skin underneath.

Elektra breathed in sharply, tears blurring her vision. The sheer number of bruises was unbelievable. How many hits did that guy manage to get in before she reached him?

"It's fine, don't worry about it. I've had worse playground fights then this."

Well, that was reassuring in an odd kind of way. If Abby was back to putting on her usual I'm-fine-and-nothing-phases-me act, then at least there was still some order in the world. Needing to do something constructive, Elektra started to get up, intending to procure an ice pack. Abby's good hand clamping down on her wrist stopped her immediately.

As soon as she'd done it, Abby looked away, seemingly shamed by the action. Releasing her hold, she kept her gaze rooted to the floor, studying the bathroom tile as if it held some great secret of life that she was now trying to uncover. Dropping back to her knees, Elektra pulled the girl into a gentle embrace, carefully avoiding the injured areas.

She was expecting tears, almost hoping for them. In all those weeks since the funeral Abby hadn't cried yet, at least not in front of her. She needed to cry, needed to let some of the pain go, and Elektra needed to see it. Because once she stopped crying, completely refused to let herself be comforted…Elektra knew what happened then.

But there were no tears. Abby stayed rigid in her arms, pulling away after less then a few seconds. Putting on a brave, yet heartbreaking smile, she said, "I'm okay now."

Sighing in resignation, Elektra took a moment to ponder their situation. Matt was dead, Kingpin was nowhere to be found, Abby was becoming more closed off by the day, and now this.

Yeah, everything was perfectly fine.

* * *

Elektra called Foggy from The Compound the following day. She told him of the attack, but only briefly. The guilt over letting Abby get hurt yet again was still too fresh.

"It's not your fault," he'd said, apparently sensing the direction of her thoughts. "Besides, what happened to those guards? Weren't they supposed to prevent something like this from happening?"

Yes, they were. She'd found them dead on a nearby rooftop, necks snapped. So much for Stick's security detail.

"How long will you be gone?" He'd asked.

"I don't know."

Elektra had tried to convince him to leave. Foggy's reply was still a flat out no. He wanted to help somehow, and continuing the work that he and Matt had started was the only way he could find to do that. Elektra promised to keep him posted on the situation and he promised to do the same from his end.

As for her old mentor, Elektra had seen virtually nothing of him since their arrival. He'd been around for a few days, then disappeared. She didn't know, nor did she particularly care about his whereabouts. All his students knew that he sometimes left The Compound, occasionally for long periods of time. Personally, Elektra was grateful for his absence, not in the mood for lectures on rage, or revenge, or doing the right thing.

Days turned into weeks, each one passing slower then the last. She tried her best to get through to Abby, to find a way to make things better. It never worked. Nights were the worst. She slept even less then usual now, dreams of Matt plaguing the few hours she did manage. It reminded her of when she'd first come here. Every time she closed her eyes. Elektra would see him, broken, bleeding, blank eyes looking at her with accusation and betrayal.

She hated this, hated herself. For not being able to help Abby, for not stopping Fisk, for letting Matt think she was dead all that time. She missed him, missed him so badly it threatened to kill her. Abby was slipping further and further from her reach. She was losing herself like she had when her father died.

And there wasn't a thing she could do about it.

* * *

Foggy called again nearly two months later, sounding apprehensive.

"I just received something at the office, it's for you."

"What is it?"

"An invitation."

"Invitation? For what?"

"Big gala and you'll never guess who's hosting it."

"Kingpin."

"Bingo. He's finally come out from under the woodwork. The party's supposed to be a celebration of his new charitable foundation, along with his new lease on life." The words dripped with disdain and hatred.

"And he's inviting me?"

"Yeah, but I don't think-"

"When is it?"

"Next week Friday, but listen-"

"I'll see you soon." She hung up before he could finish.

* * *

"You can't!"

"Abby," she tried again, surprised by the intensity of the girl's reaction. She was almost in tears.

"No! You can't just leave!"

Abby paced the small cabin, every muscle in her body tensed. Hoping to calm her down, Elektra stepped in front of the teen, hands resting firmly on her shoulders.

"Abby, listen to me. This is the closest I'm ever going to get to Fisk. I need to go."

"And it doesn't seem weird to you that he's doing this? Giving you the chance to walk up to him and-"

"Of course it does," she interrupted, "but whatever he has planned, I can deal with it. "

"So what happens if you can't?" A lone tear made its way down her cheek. Abby wiped it away quickly, but Elektra still saw it.

"Abby, I'll be fine, you don't have to worry."

That comment was met with a humorless laugh It sounded so unnatural coming from someone not yet old enough to drive. "Yeah, they said that too."

"Who did?" Elektra asked, already knowing what the answer would be.

"Mom. Dad. Matt."

"Abbs, I need you to trust me. I'm not going to die, I'm not going to leave you alone I pro-"

"Don't!" The girl snapped, pulling away from her mentor. "Don't promise anything."

Abby fled the room before Elektra could stop her, leaving the older woman with nothing to do but sit on the empty cot and wonder how things could've gotten so bad.

* * *

She wore a simple black dress, hardly bothering to look at it before handing the store clerk her credit card. Foggy had called her repeatedly, urging her not to do anything rash, to think about this, to at least bring some of those 'Bruce Lee impersonators' with her for backup. She came to the hotel alone.

The hotel. Elektra remembered it well, despite the fact that she hadn't been there in over five years. It was the same building, the same room her father had rented for the Black And White Ball.

Separating herself from the other guests, Elektra stood in the back waiting. Fisk was nowhere to be seen and she was getting impatient. Just as she was considering slipping out of here to look for him herself, a hulking figure emerged from one of the side rooms, a dark haired woman at his side. Looking to be in her early twenties, she gazed at Fisk with undisguised adoration. She was beautiful; Elektra guessed her ancestors were Mexican, or possibly Asian. Bur she meant nothing. Elektra was here for one reason and one reason only.

He appeared not to notice as she weaved her way through the crowd towards him. Mingling with a few of his guests, he turned as she approached.

"Ah, Ms. Natchios, I see you got my invitation."

Ignoring his friendly tone, Elektra fixed him with a glare that would freeze magma.

"Gentleman," he addressed his companions, "would you excuse me? Ms. Natchios is an old friend and I believe we have a lot to catch up on."

The men took their leave, but the girl on Fisk's arm didn't move. Up close, Elektra could see bulges of muscle along her arms. She wasn't a bodybuilder, but she was strong, and there was a gracefulness about her movements that spoke of some type of training.

"It's okay, Maya, we just need a few minutes in private. I won't be long."

He spoke softly, gently. If Elektra didn't know any better, she might actually think him capable of human emotion.

With obvious reluctance, Maya headed off as well, shooting Elektra a suspicious look as she went.

"Shall we?"

"After you."

Still smiling, he led her into a long hallway off the side of the room with doors on either side. Removing a key from his breast pocket, he unlocked one of them, revealing an empty conference room. He shut the door as soon as she entered, followed by a faint clicking noise as he locked it. When he finally turned to face her, all traces of the pleasant charity owner were gone, the fake smile he'd worn before had transformed into a twisted sneer.

"It's good to see you again, Elektra."


	12. Chapter Twelve

**Author's Note: **Well, here's the long awaited chapter twelve. I wanted to get it done before tomorrow, when I become a big, bad high school graduate. Besides reviews, I'd also appreciate it if you kept your fingers crossed that I don't fall on my face when I walk across the stage. In addition to being the world's worst updater, I'm also the world's biggest klutz. So, read, enjoy, and review. (Yes, I know I already mentioned reviews, I just really want them.) Oh, I wasn't very through with the editing job on this, sorry for any mistakes.

Love Me When I'm Gone

Chapter Twelve

Cold eyes bored into her, waiting for a reply. Elektra had no intention of giving him the satisfaction. She remained perfectly still as he came closer, towering over her.

"I must say, you do look stunning tonight."

Elektra continued to stare at him challengingly, even as his gaze swept up and down her body in a way that made her want to retch. He frowned as he returned his eyes to her face.

"Still, not quite as radiant as the last time we were here. Of course, things were different then weren't they? You were trying to impress someone that night. Didn't it seem odd to you, dressing up for a blind man?"

Elektra shook her head in disgust, deliberately keeping her posture relaxed. "I'm not here to walk down memory lane with you, you demented son of a bitch, so why don't we just cut to the chase?"

"In a hurry are we? What's the matter, you don't like my location choice?" Sighing deeply, the crimelord turned his back on her. "No, that's not it, is it? You came here to kill me and you want to do it quickly so you can disappear again."

"And what about you, isn't that your plan as well? Lure me out so you can finish what you started with Matt?"

Fisk turned at that, his expression unreadable. "A little late for that isn't it? Last I checked, Murdock was already finished."

"Don't pretend you don't know what I'm talking about. By the way, you're slipping."

"Hmmm, and what is that supposed to mean?"

"A sniper shot? I honestly thought you had more style then that."

Elektra watched his expression go from anger to confusion, then finally settle on a kind of shocked astonishment.

"You think…?" A loud bark of laughter escaped him. "You really don't know do you? Well, it seems I brought you here for nothing then."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Any response she would've received was interrupted by a soft knock on the door.

"Yes?"

The voice that answered was decidedly nervous. It appeared that Fisk wasn't bothering with the nice guy image when it came to his employees. "Sir, the guests are waiting. Some of them are calling for a speech."

"I'll be right out."

"Yes sir." There was a brief pause, followed by the sound of retreating footsteps.

"What do you mean?" Elektra demanded the instant she knew they were alone.

"Nothing, nothing," Fisk replied mildly, every inch the amiable business man. "I really should get back, feel free to stick around, I hear the shrimp is delicious." With that, he retreated toward the door.

"Not so fast," Elektra growled, intending to step forward and block his exit. White hot pain shooting up her wrists stopped her before she could do much of anything. Not quite sure how they had gotten that way, Elektra found her hands encased in his much larger ones. How could someone that big move that fast?

"I've known a lot of people in my life who were…less then reputable. Comes with the territory, you understand. And one thing I noticed about almost all of them, not all, but most, is that they like taking credit. Even for things they had nothing to do with; they want the attention, the praise. It's a personality trait I never really understood."

Releasing his bone-crunching grip on her wrists, the not-so-reformed Kingpin Of Crime unlocked the door and, once again turning his back to the assassin, began to step out of the conference room.

In that moment, Elektra thought back to all the pain he'd caused, everything he'd taken away from both her and Matt. Regardless of whether or not he was saying what she thought he was, there was still too much else he needed to pay for. She couldn't-she _wouldn't- _let him walk away from that.

Fast as he was, he never saw it coming.

* * *

"He didn't do it."

"Huh?"

"Fisk. He didn't kill Matt."

"Wait-what-how do you-"

"He told me, more or less."

"And you believe him?"

"Yes."

"But…why?"

"Because…trust me, he had nothing to do with it."

"How can you be sure?"

"You weren't there Foggy, you didn't see his face."

There was a beat of silence while the man on the other line digested this, then "E, if it wasn't him then-"

"I don't know."

"Yeah, but do you think-"

"I don't know."

"Okay." Another moment of nothing but the faint whisper of static. "Where are you now?"

Elektra sighed, throwing an annoyed glance at the large man who was currently trying to use her shoulder as a pillow. "Plane. Seems like it's going to be a long flight."

"You should've come to my place. I know it's not the Hilton, but now that they finished fumigating-"

"It's three in the morning; I didn't want to wake you."

"Um, thanks for the consideration, but calling me up had pretty much the same effect as pounding on my door would have."

"Sorry."

"Forget it, I wasn't sleeping anyway."

She didn't have to ask to know that he'd been waiting for news, waiting to hear that she was all right. He really was a good friend, better then she deserved.

"So…Fisk didn't kill him?"

"No."

"And…after he told you this, what did you do?"

Translation: Is he still breathing?

"Listen, my phone's dying, we'll have to finish this later." Said phone still had four bars on it, but honesty had never been Elektra's strong point.

"E, hold on-"

"Sorry, you're breaking up; I'll be in touch."

"Elektra don't-"

Click. Dial tone.

"Dammit, I'm really getting sick of that."

* * *

By the time she entered The Compound, Elektra was ready to strangle someone, collapse from exhaustion, and burst into tears. She wasn't entirely clear on which would come first, but that could be sorted out later. She hadn't gone more then three steps when one of the newer students stepped in front of her.

"Stick wants to see you."

Of course the old man would return from his extended vacation while she was away..

"Fine," Elektra replied. Pointedly ignoring him, she began moving in the direction of her cabin, away from the one Stick occupied.

"He requested to see you right away." With Stick, request was another word for demand.

"Fine," she repeated without changing course. If this guy didn't shut up within the next two seconds…well, at least it would solve the dilemma of which item would come first on her to-do list. Fortunately (or unfortunately, depending on how one chose to view the situation) he said nothing more, though Elektra knew he wanted to.

She checked on Abby before heading into her own cabin. The teen was sleeping peacefully. Either that or she was doing an incredibly good job of looking like she was which wouldn't surprise Elektra in the least.

For once, Elektra didn't care about neatness, order, or having everything in its place. She threw her bags to the floor, unsure what to do with herself. Her mind spun round and round ceaselessly, preventing the sleep she so desperately needed from overtaking her. Fisk hadn't killed Matt. The Kingpin wasn't responsible after all.

Then who was? The Hand? Someone from her days as an assassin looking for revenge? Bullseye? (Unlikely as that seemed.) Someone completely different?

A better question: why believe Fisk in the first place?

But he'd been telling the truth, she knew that. Fisk was a good actor, but not that good. Besides, if he had in fact done it, then why not gloat over his victory? But then why call her back to New York if not to make a move? He could have killed her (well, tried to) but hadn't. He could have had her followed, but unless his men were better at avoiding detection then she was (they weren't) he hadn't done that either.

All that aside, there was an even bigger question to be answered: What the hell was wrong with her? She'd made a mistake, a huge mistake, an enormous, gargantuan, mistake. The way she'd handled Fisk, what she'd done...

"Fuck!"

Huh, she'd actually said that out loud.

"Jeez E, watch your language. What kind of example are you trying to set for the young, impressionable minor?"

Whirling around to find Abby standing on the threshold, she wondered if she'd ever get used to having a fifteen-year old sneak up on her. Probably not.

"When did you get back?"

"A few minutes ago."

"Are you okay?" Elektra had to read the girl's lips to understand the question.

"I'm fine," was the firm reply. "I told you I would be."

"I know, I know. I was just…I was just being stupid."

The kid looked so ashamed, so completely apologetic. Wordlessly, Elektra held out her arms, begging with her eyes for the girl to accept her nonverbal summons.

Abby took a few hesitant steps forward, then froze.

"You're not okay are you?"

Shaking her head, Elektra barely registered the salty wetness running down her cheeks. Dimly, she realized this was the first time Abby had really seen her cry. That explained the mouth agape look of shock anyways.

"What happened?"

"Nothing, it's not important."

Opening her mouth, closing it, only to open it again, Abby finally gave up on speech altogether, choosing instead to throw herself into her mentor's arms.

The speed and force with which it was done threw Elektra off balance, but only momentarily. Recovering, she moved backward until her legs hit the cot. Gently, she lowered them both onto it, Abby's hand clenching and unclenching the back of her shirt in a way that was almost frantic.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?" Elektra questioned, running a soothing hand through dark brown hair.

"It's stupid."

"What is?"

The hand grabbed at her shirt again. "Right after Dad died, when I saw you and Matt together. …for awhile there, before you told me everything…I wanted it to be him."

"What?"

"Instead of Dad being gone, I wanted it to be Matt. I know it's stupid and childish, but I just missed him so much, and you were with someone else and-"

"Abby, you know that you had nothing to do with-"

"I know that, I told you it was dumb, but…"

She didn't finish the sentence. Elektra didn't need her to. Knowing something in your head didn't necessarily make the pain associated with that thing any less real. Having long since given up on controlling her emotions, Elektra pulled Abby more tightly against her, the girl's tears mixing with her own.

* * *

"There's something else."

Elektra, who'd been dozing lightly, regarded Abby with a confused gaze. The two of them had fallen asleep some time ago, but not before having a damn good cry. Elektra hadn't realized she was awake.

"What do you mean?"

"Something I haven't told you."

"Okay, so spill."

"It's totally-"

"If you finish that sentence with the word 'stupid'-"

"I wasn't going to."

Oh, good then. At least she was laying off the self punishment.

"I was going to say crazy."

Wow, that was certainly an improvement.

"Listen, unless you're going to tell me that Stick brought you over to the dark side while I was gone, I think I can handle it."

That earned her a small chuckle. "Okay, but-"

The explanation was cut short by a very unsubtle clearing of the throat. The same pupil who'd come up to her before had now returned. Sitting up, Elektra silently wondered why she hadn't followed her instincts and strangled him last night.

"The sensei is insisting that you see him immediately."

Shooting him an icy glare, Elektra briefly considered sending him back with a message telling Stick to fuck off. She abandoned the idea almost immediately. That type of statement was all about the delivery, and hearing it from this man just wouldn't have the desired effect.

"Can't it wait?" That was what she said aloud. What she meant was, it _will _wait, and if you have even the smallest, most microscopic bit of sense, you'll get the hell out of here.

"I'm sorry, he says it's urgent."

So much for the sense question.

"E, just go."

Eyes narrowing in suspicion, she turned her attention back to Abby. "I thought you had something to tell me."

"Seriously, it's no big deal, it can wait."

"And based on that I can assume that's it's a very big deal and that it shouldn't wait."

"Go on, go talk to him and get it over with, otherwise he'll never leave." She made a vague gesture in the direction of the waiting student.

Resisting the urge to scream in frustration, Elektra reluctantly gave in. "We're not finished here."

"I know."

Giving Abby one final look, she strode past the man she now thought of as Stick's errand boy. When he made to accompany her, Elektra tersely informed him that she didn't need an escort and headed off on her own.

* * *

The anger she'd built up and let simmer especially for Stick had reached its boiling point by the time she approached his quarters. Yesterday, she'd been too numb to get into it with him, too shocked to think properly. Now it was time for some answers.

At the cemetery, he'd basically admitted to knowing something about the Kingpin's involvement (or lack thereof) in what happened to Matt. It made sense then that he most likely knew who the real killer was. And even if he didn't, what right did he have to keep his knowledge about Fisk a secret? She'd known for a long time that Stick could be manipulative, but this was something else entirely. There was no secret test here, no grand plan that would ultimately serve to benefit all involved. Or if there was, she sure as hell wasn't privy to it.

The door, was closed, but she could hear voices coming from inside.

"Dammit, I asked you not to do this!"

Elektra stopped breathing. No, this wasn't what she thought it was. She was just missing him a lot today and-

"I'm well aware of your wishes on the subject." There was Stick, calm as ever.

"Then why not respect them?"

It took longer then expected, but the day was now here. Elektra had finally lost her mind. That was the only explanation for what she was now listening to.

"Because you're being a fool and a coward and I've grown tired of it."

Stick didn't seem even remotely surprised when Elektra barged in, hardly able to keep herself from shaking. His companion turned away almost immediately, but she still caught a glimpse of his face, still recognized the body. She'd spent many nights learning every square inch of it.

In a scene straight out of the torturous dreams that had plagued her for months, Elektra said the only thing she could think of, the only word her lips would form.

"Matt?"


	13. Chapter Thirteen

**Author's Note: **Extra, extra, read all about it. Once again, I apologize for the delay. My computer monitor isn't really working right now, so it took longer then expected getting this done. Also, I ordered six seasons worth of Smallville DVD's off the Internet and I got a little obsessed with watching them. These next few chapters contain a lot of exposition and, as you might've already noticed, exposition is not my strong point. But, I did my best, so please don't throw too many tomatoes. The editing job on this was pretty quick as well, so there are probably more errors then usual. Sorry, but I wanted to get it done before my sorry excuse for a monitor stops working again. Thanks to everyone who reviewed last time, I really appreciate it. Special thanks to Ratdogtwo for giving me ideas, and for some much needed motivational cookies. Read, review, and enjoy.

Love Me When I'm Gone

Chapter Thirteen

It was amazing how, in the span of a few hours, her entire world could be turned on its axis, leaving Elektra with no indication of which way was up, much less what she should do next. Last night, Abby's even breathing providing a point on which to focus her thoughts, she'd come up with a decent, albeit half-formed plan regarding what course their lives would now take.

They needed to heal, that much was obvious, and staying at The Compound wasn't exactly helping matters. Going back to the apartment, which now served as a constant reminder of Matt's absence, didn't seem like much of an alternative. Somewhere else then, somewhere they wouldn't be tied down by the past, where they could start fresh. Finding a house would be easy, Elektra owned several places, both in and out of the country. They could go to Paris, or perhaps Italy. Among many other things, she and Abby both shared a love of Italian cuisine. Leaving Foggy behind would be difficult, but the move didn't have to be permanent, just for a little while, just to give them a break from the world, from everything.

All those plans had been fine, well, and good until now. Now that she was staring at her supposed-to-be-dead lover, those plans had taken a one way flight to Bermuda, along with her body's ability to perform respiratory functions. If Matt didn't say something soon, or at the very least turn and look at her, there was a very good chance that Elektra would pass out from lack of oxygen.

Luckily, he did turn, his gaze landing on a point just over the top of her head.

"Yeah, it's me."

Was that a quiver in his voice? And the hollowness of it... But it _was _Matt, no matter how different he sounded. Releasing the breath she didn't know she'd been holding, Elektra decided to leave the details for later and focus on what mattered.

Arms found their way around Matt's neck, the grip not dissimilar to that of a python. Elektra buried her head against his shoulder, relieved beyond measure when he didn't disappear the moment she touched him. Not a dream then, he really was okay.

Matt remained still as a statue through all of this, arms hanging limply at his sides. Only when he heard a muffled sob from the woman holding him did he seem to break out of whatever trance he'd been in. Awkwardly, in the manner of one that has forgotten how to do it, Matt returned the hug, chin resting atop her head.

The fact that she was crying, and doing so in front of Stick of all people, didn't even register now. All Elektra knew was that Matt was holding her. But God, he was so stiff, so unresponsive.

"You were dead. We-we had a funeral…"

She hated how weak, how desperate she sounded, but the words did seem to be having some kind of effect. Matt's hold on her tightened, reminding her more of the embraces she was used to receiving from him.

"I know, I know, I know. It's okay." Feather light touches along her face as he wiped away the tears. "I'm sorry. I never meant…I didn't want it to be like this."

It wasn't that Elektra didn't want to hear what he had to say because she did. Boy did she ever. But there was something else she wanted first, something that refused to wait any longer. Tilting her face up, she simultaneously pulled his head down until their lips finally met. Her left hand began clenching and unclenching at the back of Matt's neck, an unconscious imitation of what Abby had done earlier.

He broke first, ending the contact much sooner then Elektra would have liked.

"No."

Did he just say what she thought he said?

"Matt, what happened to you?"

He tried to move away, but Elektra held him in place, green eyes clouding with worry. His face was rough with stubble, more then she'd ever seen before. New cuts and bruises in various stages of healing covered skin that was two shades lighter then usual. Elektra felt sure that, were she to examine the rest of his body, she'd find more of the same. He'd lost weight as well, not a lot, not enough to be noticeable at first glance, but it was impossible to hold him like this and not feel the difference.

"Matt," she repeated after he showed no signs of answering, "what happened?"

"It doesn't matter," he replied softly.

"Doesn't matter? You-you were dead, and now, now you show up here and tell me it doesn't matter?"

"No, no I wasn't."

"What?"

"Dead, I wasn't dead. I don't know who was in that coffin, but it wasn't me."

Elektra reluctantly released her hold on his neck, but kept a firm grip on the material of his shirt. "But…Foggy saw you get shot. I was there, I saw the body." Even now, the memory of what she'd seen outside the law office brought a lump the size of a golf ball to her throat.

"The man you saw wasn't Murdock; he was a member of The Hand."

Matt's presence had temporarily blinded Elektra to everything and everyone from the outside world, including Stick. The old man could've burst into an Irish step dancing routine, kilt and all, and she never would have looked up. Now, she split her attention between questioning him and making absolutely sure that Matt wasn't the product of the best dream she'd ever had.

"You're saying The Hand's behind this? But the body, it looked just like him."

"The shapeshifting abilities this man possessed were remarkably powerful."

Shapeshifing. Why not? In light of everything else she'd come across in the last few years, the idea of someone changing his appearance at will wasn't as hard to swallow as it would be for most people.

Most normal people.

Normal people who hadn't nearly been killed by a psychotic woman's death kiss.

"And this man, he just allowed himself to be shot?"

"Roshi has methods of persuading those around him to do as he commands."

For some reason, Stick looked directly at Matt as he said this. Matt shrank away, hand clenching into a white knuckled fist.

"If that wasn't you, then where have you been all this time?"

"I told you, it's not important."

Well, that was informative. Kiss him or kill him? Tough call.

"Are you out of your mind? Five months, Matt! You can't be gone for five months and not tell me what happened!"

"Really? Because as I recall, you were gone a lot longer then I was."

What the hell? He couldn't possibly be bringing that up now. What was he trying to say, that hiding from her was payback for the way she'd left him? Unsure what else to do, she turned to Stick.

"Tell me what's going on here? And how long have you known about it? And when you're done explaining that, why the hell didn't you tell me he was alive before now?"

"I believe you already know the answer to your last question. Murdock asked me not to speak to you about certain things. I remained silent as long as I could. As for how long, I've had my suspicions for quite some time. They were confirmed last month. You could've learned all this last night, had you done as I asked."

Oh for the love of-! She'd never obeyed his summons before, not even when they were on relatively good terms. Why would last night be any different?

"You could've told me why it was that you needed to see me so badly."

Shaking his head, Matt removed Elektra's hand from his chest, taking several steps backward. Addressing Stick, he said, "You had no right to bring her into this, it wasn't your decision to make."

"What's done is done. Perhaps now you can take responsibility for your actions."

"That's what I was trying to do! But you, you took it out of my hands and now…" He let the sentence hang, leaving Elektra more confused then ever.

"Well, like it or not, the cat's out of the bag, so one of you better start filling me in."

She looked first at Matt, who avoided her gaze like the Black Plague. He did however, look to Stick, the anger from moments earlier replaced by a kind of desperate helplessness. When he didn't get help from the old man, Matt seemed to resign himself o the inevitable.

"I honestly don't remember exactly what happened after I left the apartment. What I do remember comes only in flashes. There were men, they…they attacked me. I still don't know how they did it without anyone seeing but…there were too many, I couldn't beat them."

Elektra knew how much that admission shamed him, but said nothing. Any interruption would give him an excuse to stop talking, and she needed to hear this.

"Long story short, the guys who came after me worked for The Hand. They knocked me out, took me to a sound proof room and kept me there."

Okay, she hadn't wanted the Reader's Digest version, but it was better then nothing. For now at least. But that still didn't explain the secrecy, or his bizarre behavior. One question at a time though.

"How did you escape?"

She expected him to say that Stick had worked his magic and discovered the location of where he was being held, then organized some grand rescue mission. Needless to say, his answer surprised her.

"I didn't."

Huh?

"You didn't what?"

"Escape."

Was she missing something here?

"What are you saying?"

"I didn't escape, they let me go."

There was a hint of irritation in his voice, as if this was common knowledge.

To he and Stick maybe, but Elektra had clearly been left out of the fold.

"They let you go?"

"Yes."

She waited for him to elaborate on that, but Matt remained silent.

"They held you captive for months, then decided to let you stroll out the front door?"

"Essentially."

Yup, definitely missing something.

"_Why_?"

The answer was whispered, almost sub vocal "Because they finished what they needed to do."

Was that it? Was everything suddenly supposed to fall into place after that pathetic excuse for an explanation?

"Matt, you're not making sense."

While he spoke, Elektra had slowly been inching closer. Now, she reached for his hand, fingers just barely touching his own.

"Don't!" Quick as lightning, he grabbed her right wrist, pulling it away from him. Fresh jolts of pain travelled from the already bruised knuckles, shooting up Elektra's arm.

What worried her, what _terrified _her, was that Matt's grip would still be painfully tight, even if the area wasn't already injured. And he was still squeezing, the bones in her hand protesting loudly.

"Matthew."

Stick's voice held a warning note.. Funny how she'd forgotten about him again. Wait, when had he started calling Matt by his first name?

Breathing a silent sigh of relief as the pressure on her hand was suddenly released, Elektra watched Matt back himself into a corner, his sightless eyes reflecting a combination of fear, self loathing, and something else she couldn't identify. Frankly, she wasn't sure she wanted to.

"See?" He mumbled. "See, I told you. This is exactly why I didn't want her to know."

"Didn't want me to know what?"

Matt again looked to Stick, begging for a way out. Again, Stick ignored him. For a split second, Elektra saw something like hatred flash in Matt's eyes, then it was gone.

"A few months ago, Abby was attacked." The words were detached, unemotional, cold.

"Yes," she confirmed, knowing it wasn't a question. Stick must have told him about the intruder, but what did that have to do with anything?

"He got in through the window, locked the door."

"Yeah."

"Cut her hand open pretty bad didn't he? She had bruises all over, split lip?"

"Yeah, but how do you-"

"She wasn't supposed to wake up. I wanted to make it fast. Should've known it wouldn't work, but I forgot how good she was."

Oh God.

"She got in a few hits herself, almost sliced into my shoulder."

No, there was simply no way.

"I was there that night, E."

He wanted to leave it at that, but Elektra wouldn't let him. She had to be sure, completely, utterly, sure of what he was telling her, even if it was completely insane.

"It was me, Elektra, I tried to kill her. I tried to kill you.


	14. Chapter Fourteen

**Author's Note: **Behold, an update that didn't take a month! My computer screen and I are still having problems with each other, but the piece of garbage did manage to work long enough for me to get this typed out. Oh crap, I called it a piece of garbage, which probably means that it's going to stop working altogether. On the bright side, it's my birthday in a few days, so hopefully I'll score enough money to buy a new one. Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed; you guys really are the thing that keeps me writing. (Slowly yes, but still writing.) Once again there's a lot of exposition and once again I warn you that exposition and I are on roughly the same terms as my computer monitor and I. Even so, please take a moment to let me know what you thought, because it is a rather pivotal chapter and I want to know whether I managed to pull it off at all. Also, be warned that as I write this, it's one in the morning, so my editing job isn't really much to brag about/ If you've managed to read through all my random ramblings I salute you, and hope that you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Love Me When I'm Gone

Chapter Fourteen

Elektra knew she should say something, knew Matt was waiting for her to say something, but the words wouldn't come. She was too busy deconstructing what he'd said, rearranging it, analyzing it. Looking for any possible meanings the statement might have besides the most obvious one.

He'd been there. He'd tried to kill Abby. He'd tried to kill her.

Nope, pretty straightforward, didn't leave much room for creative interpretation.

Now would probably a good time to stop gaping like a cut fish and speak.

Sure, she could do that, speaking would be no problem.

Making whatever she said halfway intelligible? That's where things became difficult.

"I didn't want to, you have to understand. I would never hurt you intentionally, you have to know that."

Well of course she knew that. Matt seemed to be wasting a great deal of time and energy stating the obvious. On the bright side, his talking kept her from having to express herself in a semi articulate manner. Good thing too, because, Elektra was having trouble getting her thoughts together within her own head, so verbalizing them in a way that made sense to anyone else wasn't really in the cards.

"Listen, there are are things happening here that you don't understand."

No kidding. At least his grasp of all things blatantly apparent remained firmly intact.

"Enlighten me."

Short, but still a sentence. Miracles were truly in abundance today.

Matt opened his mouth to reply, then stopped, raising a hand to his temple. Grimacing, he rubbed his hands hard against his eyes.

"What's wrong?" Elektra asked, a hint of panic edging into her voice.

"It's nothing," Matt replied softly. . "I get headaches sometimes."

Elektra knew there had to be more to it then that, he'd always suffered from migraines, but she didn't get the chance to question him on it. Stick, who'd been totally unresponsive to Matt's silent pleas for help just moments earlier, finally came to his aid.

"After he was taken, The Hand put Murdock through a number of reprogramming sessions."

"Reprogramming?"

Hands still pressing against his eyes, Matt rejoined the conversation, though Elektra had to strain to hear him.

"They had a man there, I never caught his name. He-he would talk to me. He was the only one who ever talked to me. He-he'd start saying things, telling me things, telling me to do things, to you, to…" He paused there, swallowing audibly, "to Abby.

"He-there was something about him, he had some kind of ability, I'm not really sure how it worked, but eventually I started listening. I fought it at first, I tried not to…" Again, Matt stopped, swallowed, dug the heels of his hands into his forehead. At last, he said, "He was stronger then me."

"You-you're saying he brainwashed you?"

"Call it what you want. The son of a bitch screwed with my mind for I-don't-know-how-long, until I gave in. When it was over, The Hand could've told me to blow my own head off and I would've loaded the gum myself."

By the time Matt was done, the temperature in the cabin seemed to have dropped ten degrees. Elektra had never seen him so bitter, so full of self loathing. The way he was acting now, the idea of him sticking a loaded firearm to his head seemed more like a probability then a possibility.

There was a mental image she really didn't need right now.

For the first time in a long while, Elektra had absolutely no idea what to say to him. Which meant there was only one other option.

"That day at the cemetery you acted like you knew, like you knew he was alive. How could you know that?"

"I didn't know for certain, but I shared your suspicions."

"What suspicions?"

"That Fisk wasn't involved. Excluding him, The Hand was the next most logical suspect."

"Fine, but why assume he was still alive? There's no way you could've realized that this was what they were going to do."

"They've been watching him for over twenty years, Elektra. Killing him would mean that all that time and effort was wasted."

Damn, back to doing fish imitations again.

Why did Stick always have to do that? Drop bombshells like that in the same tone an average person uses when asking for the time?

She guessed it would be prudent to pick her jaw up off the floor before someone stepped on it by accident.

"What-what do you mean watching him?"

"I've told you before, Roshi and I both look for people such as yourself, people with gifts that go beyond those of normal individuals."

"Yeah, you told me about your little recruiting method when I got here , you said you'd had your eye on me for a long time, but you never mentioned Matt!"

"Am I wrong, did you not tell me that you wanted nothing more to do with your old life?"

How was it that he could recall exact conversations six years gone by, yet forget to mention minor details such as this?

Stupid question, good thing she never voiced it out loud. Stick was just being his usual secretive, manipulative, infuriating…

Best not to go there yet. She'd get answers now, rip him apart later.

_Slowly _rip him apart.

It was the same technique her father used to get the younger Elektra through her much hated training sessions; he'd given her something to look forward to afterward.

"And what about last year, after you knew we were back together, what was your excuse then?"

This had better be good.

"As far as I knew, Murdock was no longer important to them."

Yeah, not good enough.

"You just said that they were watching him."

"They watch more people then you can know. Only a fraction of that number is actually approached. Murdock shaped his own destiny after the accident; he didn't need my interference."

"And The Hand?"

"Didn't believe he was powerful enough to be of much use to them. "

"Clearly something changed if they went to this much trouble to get him now."

"Indeed. You killed Kirigi. I don 't imagine Roshi took that loss lightly. When he couldn't get The Treasure, when Bullseye failed him so miserably, he developed a new plan."

Take Matt away from her, torture him, break him down, have everyone around him believe he was dead so there would be no attempt at a rescue. Then use him as a member of The Hand, make him kill the only ones he has left who, conveniently enough, also happen to be the woman Roshi hates above all others, and the girl who, potentially, could be the downfall of his organization.

Two birds with one stone, as it were.

Elektra had to admit, there was a certain sick, twisted brilliance to all of it.

God, she was going to throw up.

Maybe Matt was as well. Abruptly he made a beeline for the exit, face contorted in an expression of sheer agony. Elektra followed him, watching as he continued to press his knuckles against his forehead. Outside, she fell into step beside him, now genuinely frightened.

"Matt, hold on, what's the matter?"

"I already told you, I get bad headaches. That damned soundproof room; I was in there too long. My hearing, my radar…I have to get used to all the noise again."

Well, at least that explained why he hadn't detected her eavesdropping on his argument with Stick. Thinking of the old man, Elektra made a mental note to punish him later. Too bad there wasn't a pack of hungry hyenas nearby.

Then again, Stick would probably just beat them into submission anyways.

Matt threw open the door of a nearby cabin. Inside was an older looking version of his sensory depravation tank, the one he hardly ever used. The one that resembled a coffin more then anything else. Stopping next to it, he began to remove his shirt, but hesitated when he realized that Elektra was still there.

"E, I know you have questions, and I know you're probably still mad, but can it wait? I need some time. Not much, just enough to make my head stop splitting in two."

Elektra heard the pleading, almost desperate tone in his voice, but she was loath to let him out of her sight, especially after what she'd just learned.

"Matt, you-I need you to tell me that you're not going anywhere. I need to know that you're going to be okay."

His whole body seemed to loosen, his expression softening from pain to love. Tugging her into his arms, he framed her face in his hands, giving a brief, but passionate kiss.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry about everything. I promise I won't take off or run away or anything like that. Just give me an hour or so to get rid of the noise, then we'll talk. Okay?"

Reluctantly, she agreed. The truth of it was that she'd rather sit here and wait for him to come out of that stupid thing, but she also sensed that that wasn't what he wanted. About to leave, Elektra paused on the threshold when something occurred to her.

"Matt, you didn't tell Abby did you; she doesn't know any of this?"

"What? Of course not! I haven't seen her since…since that night."

"And there's no way she could've found out?"

"No, the only other person that knows is Stick, and he wouldn't have said anything."

Elektra wondered about that, wondered if the old man wouldn't have told her as part of some secret agenda. But no, despite the necessary deceptions she and Mark had engaged in, Abby had trouble keeping even the smallest of secrets for more then an hour and even that was pushing it. Assuming Stick hadn't told her, then there was no conceivable way she could have found out, and if she had somehow discovered what was going on, why would she hide it?

Still, before Elektra was called away, Abby had said there was something she needed to confess-

"Why do you ask?"

Elektra shook her head, waving the question off. "Forget it, I'm…I'm not thinking clearly."

Again on the verge of leaving, Elektra turned back when Matt called out her name.

"Don't…don't tell Abby what's going on, please."

"Matt, I can't do that. She's going to know something's up the second she looks at me."

"Then avoid her."

"I can't," Elektra repeated. "There's something going on with her too, and if I don't get her talking soon she's going to shut herself off again. Besides, she's missed you, what's going to happen when she finds out that you're back and I didn't tell her?"

"I don't know," he countered. " What's going to happen when she finds out I almost killed her?"

"You stopped yourself, you walked away."

"Yeah, after you stepped in. Two seconds later and I would've slit her throat."

"But you didn't!"

"You think that matters?"

"Of course it does!"

"No, Elektra, no. What matters is that I still want to do it."

Okay, here again was the part where she couldn't form a coherent sentence.

"What?"

Again, short but effective.

"Dammit, why do you think I stayed away, why do you think I didn't want you to know? Those things they put in my head during the 'reprogramming' sessions? They're still there. Stick's been trying to get rid of them, to help me control them, but they're still there, in the back of my mind. All the time. These headaches…they're not from my radar being off, they're from these constant fucking voices in my head that I can't get rid of. When I grabbed you earlier, it took everything I had not to…"

He trailed off, covering his face with his hands. "Go," he ordered, the words muffled against his fingers.

"Matt-"

"Get. Out. Before I do something else I'll regret."

And, against all her better judgment, Elektra did, feeling like she'd gone twelve rounds with Bullseye, Kirigi, and all the rest of her former playmates. Oh, and had to suffer through a five course meal of Abby's cooking.

Belatedly, she realized that, while Matt had assured her he wouldn't attempt to disappear or leave The Compound while she was gone, he'd said nothing about whether or not he was going to be all right.

Three guesses what the answer to that one was.


	15. Chapter Fifteen

**Author's Note: **It's that time again people…update time! I'm going to warn you now, this is a lot shorter then usual, and it's not all that great either. It was actually supposed to be part of the last chapter; I just got sick of typing. I promise the next one will be better, but for now you're stuck with this. It's my birthday today, so please make it better by sending me your reviews, even though this definitely isn't the best thing I've ever written. Still, it's somewhat better then nothing. Enjoy and let me know what you thought.

Love Me When I'm Gone

Chapter Fifteen

It was no great shock to Elektra that by the time she was ready to talk to Abby, the kid was nowhere to be found. It could never be that easy.

She spent the better part of an hour searching The Compound to no avail. Growing tired of the game of hide-and seek, she then spent another thirty minutes having a largely unproductive discussion with Stick.

"_How could you not tell me this sooner? No matter what he asked you to do, why wouldn't you say anything?"_

"_Interesting question, why don't you answer one of mine? Should I have told him where you were and what you were doing during those years after you left?"_

"_You mean after you threw me out."_

"_Semantics aside, should I have informed Murdock of your location, knowing that you didn't want to be found, even by him?"_

Any rational person would understand that the situations had been completely different, but Stick continued to defend his decision.

Idiot.

The remainder of their 'discussion' had basically consisted of Elektra yelling, while her former sensei stayed perfectly relaxed, culminating in the ex assassin storming out of the room in a huff.

Déjà vu all over again.

Shortly after that, with nothing else to do, she found herself headed back toward her cabin. Ten minutes. She'd give Matt ten more minutes before she went looking for him as well. And make no mistake, if he'd taken a cue from Abby and decided to go MIA…

"Hi."

All right then. She hadn't expected him to be standing in the middle of her room, but she wasn't complaining either.

"Hi," Elektra parroted, doing a quick visual inspection as she did.

Matt had changed into loose fitting clothes, damp hair evidence of his recent session in the tank. More importantly, while he still looked tired and withdrawn, he no longer seemed three steps away from jumping off the nearest high ledge.

Improvement was improvement, and Elektra would take anything she could get at this point.

"Listen, about what happened…it-what you saw, it's not usually that bad. I usually do a better job of…controlling myself."

"Matt, I'm not…I don't know what you want me to say here."

"Yeah, I guess not. Stick, he thought that proximity might help get rid of…of everything. He was hoping that whatever hold they have on me would break if I got far enough away from their influence. Obviously he was wrong."

"And the headaches?"

"The more I fight against it, the more my head hurts. Stick brought the tank, it helps a little."

"Just a little?"

"He wouldn't give me any Vicodin, says I'm addicted."

"Aren't you?"

"Probably, but that's not the point."

Elektra felt a surge of relief run through her. Some of his old humor was coming back; he was behaving more like himself.

Stepping closer, she laid a tentative hand against his chest, one he immediately covered with his own.

"Have you spoken to Abby?"

"No. As it turns out, I don't have to worry about avoiding her, she's taking care of that for me."

"You still plan on telling her that I'm here?"

"Would you rather have her walk in here and see us?"

"I'd rather have her somewhere safe, away from me."

"You wouldn't hurt her, Matt."

"I already have."

"You said Stick was helping you. There has to be a way he can fix this."

"And what if there's not."

"There is. There has to be."

Matt shook his head, moving away from her. In the space of a few seconds, he'd gone from almost normal, back to the angry bitterness he'd displayed earlier. "I can't-I can't be responsible for anything else."

They were interrupted by a soft knock on the open door. Stick's Errand Boy had returned.

She really needed to invest in a Do Not Disturb sign.

"What now?" Elektra snapped.

"I apologize, but you did want to be notified as soon as the girl was found."

She had indeed asked the few men she knew from her time there (the ones she hadn't completely alienated) to let her know if they saw Abby wandering around somewhere. Evidently, word had spread.

"Yes, yes I did. Where is she?"

"The training area in the southeast corner."

"Thank you."

Once Errand Boy left, she turned back to Matt, but he spoke before she could open her mouth.

"Go."

"Matt-"

"Go. Talk to her, find out what's wrong."

A minute later, Elektra was on her way to the southeast corner of The Compound. She'd resisted the idea of leaving again, but Matt had been insistent. The sadness and desperation in his parting words haunted her.

"Tell her…tell her I'm sorry."

* * *

When she arrived, Abby was just about to begin a sparring match with three other students. Such odds would be easy for her, which told Elektra that she wasn't really into what she was doing. Making eye contact, she motioned the girl to come join her.

"What's wrong?"

It seemed that Elektra had been right. Not one word out of her mouth and Abby knew already that something was off. Unsure of the best way to say what was coming, Elektra chose to stall for more time. "You've been avoiding me."

Lowering her gaze briefly, Abby repeated her earlier question. "What's wrong?"

The fact that she didn't even bother to deny it troubled Elektra, as did the tone of the question. It wasn't voiced in the manner of someone who genuinely wants to know something. It sounded…

"Matt's back. He's alive. He's here."

Elektra spoke the words in a carefully measured tone, gauging Abby's reaction. She watched a thousand looks cross the girl's face in the span of a few seconds. One of them was surprise.

Surprise, but not shock.

Stick had assured her during their earlier confrontation that he hadn't told her.

Apparently he'd lied.

Because Abby didn't look shocked, stunned, floored, or any of the other ways she should have looked upon hearing what she'd just heard.

Perfunctory, that's how the question had sounded.

She'd known. For how long, Elektra wasn't sure, but she'd known.

Abby had known that Matt was alive and she hadn't told her.


	16. Chapter Sixteen

**Author's Note: **It's that time again people. This chapter grew out of a random urge I had to see if I could handle writing in first person. It's an experiment, so do let me know if I failed miserably. Don't want to be torturing you good souls by making the same mistakes twice. This one is quite a bit longer then usual. I'm not sure if that's good or bad, but I wanted to make up for how short the last one was. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, and please keep it up. Read, enjoy, and hit that purple button before you leave.

Love Me When I'm Gone

Chapter Sixteen

My jaw hurts.

No, I mean it really, really hurts.

Elektra's going to be pissed, not that that's anything new. Yeah, she's pretty much been in a constant state of pissed-offedness for the last couple weeks, and it's partially my fault.

Fine, mostly my fault, happy now?

Jeez, I'm justifying myself to a piece of paper that nobody's ever going to read. That can't be good. Speaking of which, if, for some strange reason, you are reading this, stop.

No seriously, stop right now, this stuff is private.

P-R-I-V-A-T-E

Note to self: remember to burn this later.

I'm getting off track, I tend to do that. I think I might have ADD. At least that's what I tell Mr. Helman when he yells at me for not paying attention during geometry. Stupid triangles.

Off track. Focus.

After Mom died, and we moved the first time, Dad took me to this ridiculously expensive psychologist, who supposedly was going to help me with the loss. Didn't work out that way.

Here's the thing, I have this natural distrust of doctors as a whole, but especially shrinks. They get paid to help you with your issues right? Meaning that if you don't have any issues, they don't get their hundred and fifty dollar an hour paycheck. Ergo, they take whatever issues you have and blow them way out of proportion so they can pay the rent on their overpriced, rich people apartments.

Ergo. Did I actually write that? Must have been awake during English class that day.

Crap, off track again.

Anyway, this shrink tells me that I need to do a better job of expressing my emotions, and she gives me this journal to write in, thinking that getting my thoughts down on paper would help with my anger problem.

Yes, I did have an anger problem, but the 'therapist' turned it into a much bigger deal then it actually was.

Back to the journal thing. Instead of doing what she asks me to do and spilling my guts out to a piece of paper, I come up with my own alternative. I give the notebook to Timmy, the little kid who lived across the street from us, and pay him five bucks to draw some pictures in there for me. Doesn't matter what kind of pictures, all I need is something to fill a few pages. Seemed like a solid enough plan at the time.

What's that old saying about hindsight being perfect?

So, I give Timmy a week, then swing by his place to pick up the notebook before my next session with Dr. Joyce Brothers. The problem was that I didn't bother looking at what Tiny Tim had drawn, I just figured it was the usual stuff, trucks, animals, that sort of thing. I probably should have flipped through a few pages before handing it over.

Turns out the little troll had quite the twisted little mind. I wonder what he's up to now.

Based on those pictures, I'd say juvenile hall is a pretty safe bet.

Needless to say, I had tons of fun explaining that one to Dad and the shrink.

I think she toughed it out for two more sessions before folding, told Dad I was too hostile, that she couldn't help someone who didn't want to help themselves You can imagine how crushingly disappointed I was. Still, much as I'd like to develop a sudden case of amnesia and forget the whole thing, something good did come out of it: I made my escape from the she-version of Dr. Phil, and she got herself a new basket case that wasn't as hostile as I was.

With that moron digging around in his head, Timmy's probably more screwed up now then ever.

You can't possibly understand how much it sickens me that I've sunk so low as to actually follow her advice. This has got to be rock bottom.

I just don't know what else to do. Stick sort of kicked me out of the training area, so taking my frustrations out on somebody else isn't really an option. Probably a good thing though, because I was kind of getting my ass kicked.

The inside of my mouth has been bleeding off and on all night, and one of the kicks loosened a tooth. Maybe if I pull it and stick it under my pillow I can get a quarter. No wait, a penny would be better. Good luck is in short supply around here, so I'll take anything I can get.

I wasn't really paying attention to the guys I was supposed to be sparring with; I was too busy watching Matt watching me. Well, as much as a blind person can actually watch someone.

Up to then, I hadn't seen him since that night, even though he's been back here for close to two weeks. I miss him; I want to talk to him.

Except that I don't. Part of me is still terrified of him.

Yeah, that's right, terrified, but cut me some slack. He did sort of try to kill me, but more on that later.

So he's standing off in the distance watching me. I have no idea what was going through his head, we were too far apart for me to see his expression. And honestly, I don't really want to know what he was thinking. Going from what little I've heard from Stick and Elektra, Matt's head is a pretty messed up place right now. What was the word Stick used?

Stable, that's what he said. Matt's not stable.

I don't want to know.

Anyway, he's standing there, I turn around to block a punch, and the next time I look, Elektra's there next to him, hand on his arm.

It's funny how things work out sometimes. Until recently, I'd never really seen the two f them fight. Don't get me wrong, I've seen them argue plenty of times, but that was like watching a wrestling match on TV, the kind with burning coffins and people hitting each other with chairs.

And no, they never got mad enough to get physical or start beating each other over the head with household furniture. If they had, I would've been selling tickets, because considering who we're talking about, that'd be a hell of a thing to watch.

Sorry, off track. Blame it on the ADD.

What I mean is, it's not real. That crap on TV isn't real, and neither were those fights between Elektra and Matt. You always knew they wouldn't stay mad for long; the only question was who would beg out first. Usually it was Matt, which might seem weird what with him being a lawyer, but if I argued with people for a living, I probably wouldn't want to come home and do it all over again either. Especially not with Elektra.

They've had more fights in the last weeks then in the entire six months I lived with them. Some of it's about me, and some of it's about other stuff.

And no, I wasn't eavesdropping, I just happened to be walking by at a time when they were talking extremely loudly.

Anyway, when she came up to him, I was hoping they'd made up. In spite of what's happening, I still don't like it when they have massive blowouts like this, it just feels wrong. They talked for a minute, I turned again, and then Matt got all stiff and pulled away from her. I think they were yelling, or at least he was, but don't ask me what was said, I couldn't make anything out.

Then came the part where I got smacked in the mouth. And kicked in the knees. And punched in the stomach. And kicked in the mouth again, I guess for good measure.

Not my proudest moment, but that's what I get for not keeping my guard up. To be honest, I probably had it coming. See, the guy who did it, I accidentally broke his rib last year. In my defense, Dad had just been killed and I wasn't in the best frame of mind at the time.

I did mention that anger problem right?

Speaking of angry, I wonder how long Elektra's going to stay pissed at me.

Sorry, pissed is a little bit of an understatement.

Like saying the Hiroshima bomb was just a little firecracker, like that kind of understatement.

It's not even the good kind of angry, the kind where she yells and screams because I got in a fight at school, or came home late without telling her where I was, or something stupid like that. Yelling I can deal with. I don't like it, but I can deal.

It's not that though, it's the kind where she still talks to me, talks, not shouts, but does it in this tight, clipped tone of voice. Like she doesn't want to be mad, but she still is.

She is most definitely mad.

I did try to explain myself the best I could, but that's not saying much, so she doesn't get it. She doesn't really understand why I never said anything. All she knows is that Matt's alive, and she probably feels like she's the only one on the planet who didn't know about it. She doesn't get how confusing it's been.

She doesn't get what it's like to feel like you're losing your mind.

Way before any of this started, I started having dreams. Dreams of a guy dressed in black holding a knife over my head. At first, I chalked it up to a bad combination of too much soda and too many slasher films. Then it happened again. Over and over again, same thing every time.

It was fine for awhile. Okay, not fine, but at least manageable. Then one day, I was sitting in the training room, watching Matt and Elektra spar with each other, and something looks familiar to me. That by itself meant nothing, I've trained with both of them, they both taught me how to fight, so of course it seemed familiar.

I don't know exactly when it was that I made the connection between Matt and this knife wielding dream-dude, but it happened. I doubt I would've noticed it if I wasn't having that same stupid nightmare every time I closed my eyes.

Then one day it hits me, this guy has the same fighting style as Matt does. Or the same style Matt would have if he wasn't holding back, if he was actually out to kill someone. That's why, in the dream, he blocks almost every hit I throw at him. Because he taught me those moves.

Obviously, this whole thing is completely idiotic right? Matt would never hurt me; he can't even ground me properly. But the dream keeps coming. A few days before the shooting, before everything went to hell, Elektra called me on it, wanted to know what was wrong. And, weird as this is, I actually thought about telling her.

For maybe half a microsecond. I mean, just picture the conversation here.

Wait, you're a piece of paper, you can't picture anything. Whatever, do it anyway.

Gee Elektra, you really want to know what's going on? Okay then. I've been having nightmares about getting my throat cut open with a very big, very sharp looking knife. Isn't that something? Oh, I haven't told you the best part yet, the person doing the cutting? I'm pretty sure he's your boyfriend. You know, the one you're head over heels in love with?

Appealing as that sounded, I decided to pass.

Little side note here, Elektra would never have described her feelings for Matt the way I just did, but I'm still right. She's totally in love with him, and trust me, it goes both ways. Not that they call each other by pet names or spend every waking moment trading mushy endearments, because that would be really sick. Luckily, neither of them are big on public displays of affection. That's mostly my doing. Whenever they go beyond hand holding, I tell them to get a room. I don't actually care all that much, it's just that by doing that, it both embarrasses and irritates them at the same time, thereby amusing me.

What the hell? Since nobody's going to see this anyway, I might as well admit that there's a small part of me that still wishes it was Dad who Elektra wanted to be with.

A very small part.

Dad's gone, I get that and even if he wasn't, Matt makes her happy. At least he used to. And he made me happy too, though obviously in a completely different way. He's not Dad, he never tried to be, and that's probably why I came to like him so much.. That, and the fact that once upon a time we had some pretty good times together.

Well, I had a good time at his expense, but he was always a sport about it.

Shit, I'm rambling again.

I didn't tell Elektra about the dreams. I didn't plan to either. Then they started happening when I was awake. I must have scared the hell out of them that night, especially Matt. I didn't mean to freak out, didn't mean to shrink away from him when all he wanted to do was make sure I was okay.

I also didn't mean to fall apart in Elektra's arms so many times during those weeks after I lost Dad.

The difference is that crying it out about Dad had been cathartic, made me feel like I wasn't going to die from all this pain I was feeling.

Bursting into tears for no apparent reason and acting like Matt was going to throttle me any second made me feel crazy. And look crazy, I'm sure. What else would they think?

But in that moment I knew. Don't ask me how or why, but I knew it was him.

Then I realized how insane that was and did what I do best: ignored it. I had ice cream with the guy. We joked. We laughed. No matter what was going on in my head, I knew that Matt would never hurt anybody.

Anybody who didn't deserve it that is.

And he'd put up with me for this long without resorting to murder, so I figured I was safe.

Then the next day came, and I found out he was dead.

I won't go into what happened over the next couple months, it'll just depress me more. The only thing I will say is that the dreams continued. Except I couldn't call them dreams anymore, since it was now a regular thing for me to have them while awake.

I'll also say that I became an addict.

Hi, my name is Abby Miller and I'm addicted to Gatorade. I've been sober for one hundred and two days now.

Rambling. Must stop doing that. It's bad enough that I'm a quarter step away from talking to myself.

One night, in the midst of having the dream/nightmare/whatever yet again, I came to another jaw-dropping realization: this time I _wasn't _dreaming. The whole thing went off without a hitch, just the way I'd seen it a hundred times before.

I thought I was going to die.

I _knew _I was going to die.

If there ever comes a time when Elektra decides to forgive me and we get things back to how they were, I'm not going to tell her that. She knows what happened, most of it anyway, but she doesn't know how I felt. She never will either. I think it might destroy her if she really understood how unbelievably, incredibly scared I was.

I've had close calls before. That Typhoid bitch literally killed me, and I knew I was dying in those last few moments. I also knew in my gut that Elektra was still alive and that she was coming for me. On top of that, this was right after we met, when I still thought that she could do no wrong. That somehow, she'd always find a way to save me, to make everything okay again. I held on to that delusion for a long time. Until the day I woke up in this place with her looking down at me, only to tell me a few minutes later that I wasn't going to see my Dad again.

There was also that poisonous dart thing with Bullseye. One second I'm sprinting down the hall. Abby Miller: Action Hero. The next thing I knew, I was waking up in a hospital, and Elektra was still looking down at me...

Neither of those was the same.

With Typhoid, I somehow knew that even though I was down, that didn't mean I was out.

With Bullseye, it happened too fast for me to even register that something was wrong.

With Matt, I was in trouble and I knew it. Knew how it was going to end.

And then Elektra busted in and saved me, as per usual. That had never happened before.

Nonetheless, my dream had finally come true.

Yipee.

Part of me wanted to tell her, both that night, and a thousand other times since we got here. Unfortunately, for once in my life, I couldn't seem to open up my mouth.

Hey E, I've got good news and bad news. The good news is…Matt's not dead, you don't have to be miserable, you can start eating again. You can start _living _again. The bad news is…he was that guy who broke in, beat the shit out of me, nearly cut my hand off, and tried to strangle you.

Yeah, that might be the reason for my sudden bout of tight lip.

Besides, even if I told her, why would she believe me? My whole theory was based on the fact that this man had Matt's fighting style, except he wasn't holding back. He wanted blood. Elektra saw Matt's body on the pavement, saw the gaping hole in his skull that meant having a closed casket funeral. I never saw the attacker's face.

When I get nervous or afraid about something, I have this bad habit of coming up with all these worse case scenarios. Elektra could think what I had for most of the last few months: that I was certifiably insane. She could send me to another shrink, not that that would do any good. She might take it a step further and send me to a place with nice padded walls where they use plastic utensils.

I don't know if I really thought that she'd ship me off to the funny farm. Probably not, but like I said, when I get scared, and when I have time to think about how scared I am, rational thought kind of takes a backseat.

Oddly enough, I think the thing I feared most wasn't that she wouldn't believe me, but that she would.

Doesn't make sense, I know.

I said I wouldn't go into those months between the shooting and the attack, and I still won't. Not in detail. But Elektra, she became a different person during that time. I can't describe it in words and I'm not going to bother trying.

My point is that if I told her what I thought I knew about Matt, there was a good chance that she'd believe me and go chase after him. Crazy as it was, she might believe it, because if it were true, then that meant that the guy she loved wasn't gone forever

If she had believed me, she would've gone after him.

Maybe that was her right.

No, forget the maybe, it _was _her right. I took it from her.

I should be sorry.

I should be, but I'm not.

Because I've heard stories, mostly from Foggy after he's had a few too many, about how Matt took off to look for Elektra. How the hope that she was alive somewhere kept him going, about how he wouldn't give up.

And then he did give up. He admitted defeat, admitted that she was gone.

Foggy says it almost broke him.

I think it might have broken Elektra.

She was a different person, but she was still holding on, still holding it together.

If I gave her false hope, only to find out later that I was totally wrong…I honestly think it might have broken her.

And I couldn't handle that. I can barely manage thinking about it.

If I were to be responsible for it…

Two years ago, I wouldn't have believed that she could break. I thought she was invincible. I'm still young, but I'm not that naïve anymore.

Sometimes I wish I was.

Stick said that my visions were some bizarro form of Kimagure. Perks of being The Treasure, I guess.

Elektra and I talked yesterday. She's still talking to me, it's just really awkward. I know I probably said that already, but who cares? She's been keeping me updated on how Matt's doing.

By the vague statements she's making, it doesn't sound good.

After we finished, she got up from the tree we were sitting under and started to leave. Before she could, I asked her if things were going to be okay.

I get annoyed with her because at times she treats me like a child. It's not a conscious thing; she probably does it because she knows I didn't have the best of childhoods and that maybe I grew up too fast for my own good. I get why she does it, but I still hate it.

Usually.

When I asked her if things would be okay, I wanted that. I wanted her to treat me like a little kid. Even if she didn't believe it, I wanted her to lie to me, promise that it wouldn't always be like this, just so I could feel a tiny bit better and possibly get some sleep tonight.

She knew what I needed to hear, I could see it in her face. She came back, kneeled down in front of me, and grabbed my hands. She does that sometimes, when she's telling me something important. Like she thinks physical contact will make the message stick longer.

She knew what I needed, and she almost said it too. I could see her lips moving to form the words. Then she stopped. She looked at me for a second, then got up and left without saying anything.

I have to believe that the reason she did that was because she's more pissed then she wants to admit. That she knew I'd take her at her word, that I'd feel better, even if just for that minute. I have to believe that she didn't want that. That even if she didn't want to hurt me, she didn't want me to stop hurting either. That she thinks I betrayed her and this is her way of getting revenge.

I have to believe that.

Because the only other thing I can figure is that she thinks I'm old enough for the truth.

The truth being that she doesn't know if things will get better. She doesn't know whether or not we'll ever get out of this hell we're all stuck in.

Elektra doesn't do uncertainty. She says something; it turns out to be true. She told me I'd be okay after Dad died. Things wouldn't be the same, but I'd get through it. She was right.

So if she doesn't know that things will improve…

It might be worse then that. Maybe she's not uncertain. Maybe she honestly doesn't think that we'll ever get things back to something resembling what they were.

No.

Just…no.

I've been dealing so far. I can't deal with that.

It's not true.

Yeah, that's real adult behavior there. I don't want to deal with something, so therefore it doesn't exist. Real mature.

Maybe Elektra's right.

Maybe I am still a child.


	17. Chapter Seventeen

**Author's Note: **Congratulations, you've won a brand new car! Er, wait, sorry, wrong piece of paper. Though I do have something almost as good, a nice new update, hot off the presses. Fine, it's not nearly as good as a car, but there are starving children in Africa who don't get any updates at all, so be thankful for what you have. Moving on, the editing job on this was pretty quick, so I apologize for any errors. Thanks to everyone who reviewed so far, you all rock. I would buy all of you new cars, but I think that would require me having more then a couple hundred bucks and a coin collection. But hey, you can always try Oprah. Anyway, read, enjoy, and send me some feedback. You won't get money or a car, but I'll love you forever, and isn't love what makes the world go round? Wait, I'm mixing up lyrics again aren't I

Love Me When I'm Gone

Chapter Seventeen

Three hours earlier, unaware that he would soon be the subject of Abby Miller's first ever journal entry, Matt Murdock listened to the sounds of her sparring session. He knew he shouldn't be there, understood that it wasn't safe, understood that he should leave.

Still, he didn't move.

In three hours, Abby would write about how she didn't know what Matt was thinking in that moment, how she didn't particularly care to know what kinds of things were churning inside his head. If she had known, if she had somehow been able to peek into his mind as he stood there observing her, she would've been more then a little surprised at the direction his thoughts had taken him.

"_Please?"_

"_No."_

"_Please?"_

"_No."_

"_Please?"_

"_Abby, what makes you think I know what it is?"_

"_Because Elektra knows what it is, and she tells you everything."_

"_Your birthday isn't for two months; I don't think she's in any big rush to find you a present."_

"_No, but she plans everything way in advance, so I bet she already picked it up."_

"_If she did, I never heard anything about it."_

"_What if I try to guess what it is?"_

_Leaning back against the couch, Matt strained his ears hoping to find something requiring Daredevil's attention. An assault, a mugging, a domestic dispute, a cat stuck in a tree, he would take anything that gave him an excuse to leave. _

"_You're not listening to me are you?"_

"_No, now go back to your room."_

"_Is it big or small?"_

"_I thought we'd established that I don't know what it is."_

"_What's the price range?"_

"_You're asking the wrong person."_

"_Is it electronic?"_

"_Considering the reason you're grounded, I'd have to say no."_

"_Would you get over it already? I didn't mean to break your precious stereo."_

"_Cops, Abby. Do you have any idea how loud it had to be in here for anyone in this neighborhood to voluntarily call the police?"_

"_You guys went out, I was bored. And while we're on the subject, I happen to be dying of boredom right now."_

"_You're being punished, boredom is a requirement."_

"_Yeah, but the warden's left the building, so why don't we ease up on the solitary confinement until she gets back?"_

"_There's no solitary confinement going on here. Solitary confinement would be you, in your room where you're supposed to be. And I don't think Elektra would appreciate being compared to a prison official." Idly, Matt wondered why it was taking her so long to buy a few groceries. _

"_She's taking the scenic route." It seemed he wasn't doing a very good job of concealing his thoughts from the girl on the other side of the couch._

"_It's two blocks away. In Hell's Kitchen. There is no scenic route."_

"_She had to spend the entire day with me while you were at work. She'll find a scenic route."_

"_Great. Don't you have homework to do?'_

"_No."_

_Matt glared at her._

"_Maybe a little," she amended. "But it's not fair to use your stupid human lie detector thing on me; it's a violation of my civil rights."_

"_Uh huh."_

_It also wasn't fair that every criminal in Hell's Kitchen had apparently decided to take the night off. The one time he truly _wanted _to go out as Daredevil, and he couldn't do it. He could always leave anyway, tell Elektra there was some imagined threat that he needed to neutralize. But left to her own devices, Abby may well have demolished the entire apartment by the time he returned. And if Elektra got back first and saw that Abby was alone.._

_Things like that just shouldn't be left to chance._

_Rising from the couch, Matt made his way into the kitchen._

"_Hey," Abby called, "where are you going?"_

"_To either get a beer or stick my head in the oven, I haven't decided which yet."_

"_Don't stick your head in the oven, I've got a pizza in there and I'm starving."_

"_Beer it is then."_

"_You shouldn't use alcohol to solve your problems."_

"_And you shouldn't be out here making me insane," Matt responded as he reentered the room. _

"_You have any better ideas?"_

"_You could go finish your homework."_

"_I could, but to finish it would mean that I'd actually have to start it, and that would mean giving up the excitement that comes with getting it done just as the bell rings."_

"_Should I be worried that you're scrambling to complete assignments until just before class starts?"_

"_Nope, I work better under pressure."_

_Matt nodded in bemusement, choosing not to comment only because the girl's last report card had been exemplary, as had the one before that. _

"_Anyway, the assignment is totally pointless; I could do it in my sleep."_

"_What assignment is that?"_

"_We're supposed to write a paper about our dream career. Seriously, how stupid is that? Does the teacher not realize that we've all done that exact same thing at least once since kindergarten?"_

_Matt shrugged noncommittally, taking a sip from the bottle in his hand. "So what did you say?"_

"_Huh?"_

"_When you were younger and had to write about what you wanted to do, what did you say?"_

"_I was six years old, what does it matter?"_

"_It doesn't really, I'm just curious."_

"_You'll laugh."_

"_No I won't."_

"_Will too."_

"_Fine, I'll make you a deal, you tell me what you wanted to be as a kid and I'll do the same."_

"_When you were a kid? Like, back in the twenties?"_

"_Are you implying something about my age?"_

"_Of course not, I don't even know what imply means."_

"_Good, because Elektra's the same age as I am, so calling me old would be the same as calling her old. And if she caught you doing that, you might end up being grounded until you finish college."_

"_You wish, she'd never do that and neither would you."_

"_Why do you say that?"_

"_Because now you both realize how annoying I am when I want to be, and neither of you is going to torture yourselves for that long, it would be borderline masochistic."_

"_You don't know the meaning of the word imply, but you have no problem with masochistic?"_

"_Is that sarcasm? Because if it is, you really suck at it."_

"_Come on, answer the question."_

"_Why do you care so much?"_

"_I told you I don't; I just don't want to get stuck in another discussion about Puff The Magic Dragon."_

"_You have to admit, the lyrics are pretty dumb. I mean, if I had a pet dragon that would do whatever I wanted, I'd take him to school and have him fry people. He breathes fire, yet this moron kid blows him off and completely alienates him."_

"_The song never actually said that he could breathe fire."_

"_He's a dragon. All dragons breathe fire; it's like an unwritten dragon rule."_

"_Of course, what was I thinking? Would you mind if we talked about something other then your desire to burn your classmates alive?"_

"_You make everything sound so dramatic," Abby complained._

_Matt sighed, downing the remainder of his beer in three large gulps. "What would it take for you to be quiet until Elektra comes home?"_

"_TV," the girl replied almost before he'd finished speaking._

"_You've been waiting for me to ask that all night haven't you?"_

"_Yeah, now where's the remote?"_

_Groaning, Matt handed her the control. Elektra would be mad that he'd given in to her demands, but a person could only take so much psychological torture. He listened as Abby flipped rapidly through channels, groaning again when he realized what show she had chosen to stop at._

"_Springer?"_

"_You wanted me to shut up."_

"_How can you watch this garbage?"_

_Abby shrugged in much the same way Matt had just moments ago. "It makes us look normal."_

"Matt?"

The Man Without Fear jerked in surprise when Elektra touched him, cursing himself for not hearing her approach.

"Elektra."

He felt the anger coming off her in waves.

"Why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Make yourself sound like a damn robot every time you talk to me."

"Was there something you wanted, aside from criticizing my speech patterns?"

She wasn't touching him anymore. Good.

"You think she doesn't notice you staring at her?"

"Blind people don't stare at things, Elektra."

"Fine, what are you doing here then?"

"I had to be sure that she was okay. What does it matter to you?"

Her pulse sped up. The silence before her next words was too long. "I'm just trying to help. Stick says you haven't been –"

"Since when did you start listening to Stick?" That had come out louder then he wanted it to.

"He's trying to help you Matt! He thinks he can fix-"

"He's wrong, E. All he's doing is making it worse."

"How much worse could it possibly get? You can't just give up!"

"What do you want from me? I hurt you; I nearly killed Abby, not to mention the others."

Another pause that was too long. "What others?"

Son of a bitch. Why did he have to go and say that?

"Forget it."

He made to walk away, but Elektra blocked his path. "What others?"

"Like you said, it can't get much worse then it already is, so why dwell on it? That's not why you came here anyway."

"Really, then why am I here, Matt?"

"Because you don't trust me around her. It's okay, I don't trust myself either. Obviously."

"That's not-"

"Don't lie to me! Not you."

"Matt-"

"Don't bother, Elektra."

"You can't ask me to sit back and do nothing while you-"

"Say that you trust me then."

"What?"

"You know you can't lie to me, so say it. Say that you trust me, that you're absolutely sure, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I wouldn't hurt someone. The way I am now, not how I was before. Tell me that you could walk away, leave me in a room alone with her, and know that she'd be safe."

Silence had a way of being deafening at times.

"You can't, can you? That's why you're here."

"No."

"It's good that she has you to protect her."

"I'm not protecting her from you, Matt."

"You are, and you should be. Hell Elektra, I couldn't even get a fourteen year old kid to stay in her room. I don't know how I thought I was strong enough to beat them."

She wanted to say more. He left before she had the chance.

It was better that way, better for all of them.


	18. Chapter Eighteen

**Author's Note: **Here we go with number eighteen. It's the home stretch now, only a couple more chapters. Thanks to everyone for reviewing, and sticking with me through this angst fest. Sorry for any errors, it's late and I'm not the best proofreader. I hope you enjoy anyway, and please send feedback; it honestly does help me write faster.

Love Me When I'm Gone

Chapter Eighteen

"Please?"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"But Elektra-"

"This isn't up for discussion!"

Seeing Abby flinch at the anger in her tone, Elektra made herself calm down. This wasn't the girl's fault; she was just trying to help.

"I'm sorry. I'm not mad at you."

Abby made a noise that wasn't quite a snort, but something extremely close to it.

"I'm not," she insisted.

Okay, that one was definitely a snort.

"All right, I'm a little mad, you shouldn't have been spying."

"I wasn't spying."

"No, you just happened to be hiding outside our cabin listening to our private conversation."

"Okay, first of all, a shouting match is not a conversation. I was just walking by, minding my own business, it's not like I was intentionally listening. They probably heard you guys back in New York. And second, I was _sitting _outside. Sitting, not even remotely similar to hiding."

"And of all the places you could've been _sitting_, you picked that particular spot why?"

"I felt dizzy and I had to sit down. It was either that or faint."

"You seem fine to me."

"Sure, now that I sat down. I'd probably be a lot better if you hadn't come out of nowhere and dragged me up."

"You would've heard me coming if you'd paid more attention."

"Hold on a minute, you're pissed at me for spying, but you want me to pay more attention while I'm doing it?"

"Don't change the subject. And don't say pissed. And would you stop making that noise?"

"Why, because it's not ladylike? That doesn't really work coming from you."

"Abby, I'm not in the mood for this tonight."

"You mean you're not in the mood for _me _tonight."

Looking genuinely shocked, Elektra took a seat on the coot, next to Abby. "It's not that, it's never that."

"Sometimes it is."

"Sometimes, but not now."

The teen took a moment to study her hands, tangling her fingers together. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you everything sooner."

"Between you and Matt, 'sorry' seems to be the only word I hear these days."

"Sorr-I mean-"

"Don't, it's not your fault. And yeah, I wish you'd told me what was happening, but it's over and done with."

Not her most comforting or reassuring speech, but it was all Elektra could muster at that point. Eventually, she'd get around to apologizing for the way she'd treated Abby. Most of the anger she'd directed at the kid had been meant for The Hand, some of it was for Stick, and an ever growing portion was for Matt himself. Most of it wasn't meant for Abby.

Most, but not all.

Eventually, they'd sit down and have a long talk, clear the air.

Eventually wasn't now.

Now it was time for some damage control.

"How much did you hear?"

"Matt killed some people."

"You know that he wasn't himself."

"I'm not stupid."

"I know. What else?"

"He doesn't remember much, but he thinks they were tests, to make sure he was under their control before they sent him after us."

Elektra sighed. "You shouldn't have heard that."

"Why not? Did you think I wasn't going to find out? God, why do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Hide stuff that you think I can't handle? I'm not a friggin' two year old!"

The sudden outburst surprised Elektra, but not so much so that she couldn't grab Abby's arm before the girl had a chance to bolt.

"Hey, calm down. I know you're not a child Abbs, but-"

"-you won't let me talk to him."

"That's different."

"Why?"

Why? Hadn't they just spent the last hour going through that? She knew Abby had selective hearing, but this was ridiculous. "It's just not a good idea."

"He wouldn't hurt me."

"That's not what I'm worried about."

"And you say I'm a shitty liar."

"Watch your language."

"You should talk. If he was going to do something, he would've done it already."

"I told you, it's not about that. Matt thinks you're afraid of him."

"I'm not."

She was getting better. Elektra might have actually believed her if she'd managed to make eye contact. "It's okay."

"Like you said, he wasn't himself."

"He hurt you."

"He's not the first."

Elektra tried not to show her reaction to that. She failed. "No, he's not. I don't expect you to be comfortable around him."

"I'm fine with seeing him, it's you that has such a problem with it."

"Because if you do this, if you approach him with even the slightest bit of fear-"

"How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not-"

"But if you were, he'd know it. He'd sense it, he'd read it the wrong way, and nothing you said after that would matter."

"You have a better idea then? Because he sure as hell isn't listening to you."

Elektra didn't do a good job of hiding her reaction to that one either. Never very good with words, Abby couldn't find a term that adequately described the look on her mentor's face. All she knew was that she'd hit below the belt, struck a chord she shouldn't have touched.

Not with a ten foot poll.

"Elektra, I'm-"

Before she could utter the word Elektra had expressed such distaste for not two minutes ago, a strange noise filled the small room. It took several moments before both occupants realized what it was, almost simultaneously.

"What's my cell phone doing in here?"

"Uh, I meant to tell you about that, too."

"I'm all ears."

"I got bored."

"And your solution to that was to steal my phone?"

"Borrow."

"Without permission."

"I would've asked, but I value my head."

"What's that mean?"

"It means I didn't want you biting it off."

"You're overstating…what did you do to my ringtone?"

"Nothing much. I was just fooling around, and you said you liked that movie."

"When?"

"When we watched it."

Elektra grimaced, pinching the bridge of her nose to ward off the headache she felt building there. In her memory, the first (and thankfully last) time she'd watched _Star Wars _had been only slightly less painful then getting a knife shoved into her spine. The details of the film were lost on her, mainly because she'd spent three fourths of it refereeing a popcorn fight between Matt and Abby. Words were exchanged, she remembered that quite well, but very few of them had been hers, and she had no recollection of expressing any sort of enjoyment for the movie. She certainly wouldn't have chosen to have the theme music blaring from her cell phone.

"You going to answer that?"

"No."

"It's probably Foggy."

Considering the remarkably short list of people who had this number, Elektra would be shocked if it _wasn't _Matt's best friend, whom she hadn't spoken to since the flight back from New York. Given how abruptly that call had ended, she really did owe it to him to answer this one.

But then he'd ask how things were going, and Elektra had serious doubts in her ability to lie to him. She'd recently expanded her definition of lying to include intentionally leaving out vital chunks of information. At least where others were concerned.

Foggy didn't know about Matt, and Matt had made it painfully clear that that wasn't about to change any time soon.

Elektra wouldn't be able to hear his voice and not tell him what had happened, what was still happening. Not after being left in the dark herself for so long.

Crossing the room, she quickly located the phone, buried in a pile of the few belongings Abby had packed with her when they left. Forcefully, she was reminded of the morning of Matt's supposed death, how she'd been arguing with the girl over her seeming inability to travel lightly. After the attack, Elektra had insisted they head for the safety of The Compound as soon as possible. She'd offered to help the kid pack, but Abby refused. Elektra wondered now if the lack of personal items was due to the hand injury she'd suffered, shock over what had transpired, or a combination of the two. It definitely didn't have anything to do with Abby deciding to follow her advice for once.

Holding down the off key, Elektra breathed a silent sigh of relief when that dreaded music finally ended.

Her relief was short lived.

Abby was gone, using the momentary distraction as a means of escaping unnoticed. There was no trace of her outside either.

The kid was spending too much time around her. Or maybe her training was progressing a little too well. Or maybe it was those damn Batman cartoons she occasionally watched on Saturday mornings.

Whatever the cause, Abby was getting far too good at disappearing.

* * *

E was going to be pissed.

Again.

Unless Abby could do what needed to be done. If she could do this, actually break through to Matt, Elektra might just forgive her for not being honest in the first place. There was also a chance that she'd do exactly what her guardian had warned against, causing irreparable psychological damage.

Abby did her best to ignore that possibility.

She ignored the fear that was slowly creeping up, threatening to stop her in her tracks.

She walked faster.

He wouldn't hurt her. She believed that. Stick shared her belief; otherwise he'd never allow Matt to stay here. Elektra did too. Her refusal to let Abby speak with him was driven by her need to protect the people she loved.

It had to be.

The question then became, who was she protecting, Abby from Matt, or Matt from Abby?

The teen ignored that one, too.

She couldn't ignore the one about why, in her mind, she was referring to herself in the third person.

The shrink would have a field day with that.

Abby walked faster still, until she was almost running.

Elektra had been upset with her for hiding behind 'their,' meaning her and Matt's, cabin. 'Their" didn't seem a very fitting description, seeing as how Matt was sleeping somewhere else. Abby knew where the depravation tank was, had figured out that Matt spent the majority of his time inside its confines.

She hoped he'd be there now.

She hoped he wouldn't.

But if he wasn't, Abby knew that, despite her fear, despite her uncertainty, despite having absolutely no idea what to say to the man, she would find him, before Elektra could stop her.

Matt wouldn't listen to Elektra. He needed to hear it from her. Abby was the one he carried the most guilt over. Abby was the one he couldn't forgive himself for.

The others-those half remembered people who he'd also robbed of life-were important too.

Not nearly as important as Abby.

He needed her forgiveness first, and it needed to be just the two of them, he had to realize that she'd come on her own, going against Elektra in the process.

Abby knew all this instinctively, not sure where the thoughts were coming from.

She was at the door now.

Matt was inside the room, she could hear him moving around.

If she was wrong about all this, she could push him past the point of no return.

If she was really wrong, she could get herself killed.

She opened the door.


	19. Chapter Nineteen

**Author's Note: **Wow, this is definitely one of the quickest updates ever. I didn't really like the last chapter; it was only there because I needed a transition to this one, which was infinitely more fun to write. As I said before, we're nearing the end. The next chapter will be it, so look for that one soon. Reviews are always appreciated. I hope you enjoy.

Love Me When I'm Gone

Chapter Nineteen

You killed them.

Murderer.

First your father, now this.

Elektra too, you allowed her to die. She deserved it though, she betrayed you.

No.

She doesn't love you, you must know that. No one who loved you would hide the way she did, put you through so much pain.

Not true, don't listen.

And the girl, you think she cares? She resents you, wants you gone.

Don't listen, don't listen, don't-

Make them pay.

NO!

Fool.

Coward.

You're nothing but a scared little boy, crying for his father.

Coward.

You're a coward.

You're a-

"You're an asshole."

That voice wasn't in his head, it was behind him.

"What are you doing here, Abby?"

"I got lost on the way to the bathroom. What do you think I'm doing here?"

"You should go."

"Or what, you'll take away my allowance?"

"If Elektra put you up to this-"

"Yeah, that's likely. "

"You need to leave."

"You said that already."

"Then why are you still here?"

"I don't know, why are you being such a prick?"

A flash of anger rushing through him, Matt turned to face the girl, realizing too late that the shirt he'd been putting on when she barged in was still open, exposing his bare chest. A sharp intake of breath testified that Abby had already seen too much.

"Jesus Matt…"

Buttoning the shirt so that the scars were no longer visible, Matt deliberately kept his voice even. "Most of them are old; it's not what you think."

"Sure," Abby replied. He didn't need his enhanced senses to know that she didn't believe him for a minute.

"I know what you're trying to do, Abby."

"Good, then you're not a total idiot after all. "

"Is this your version of a pep talk?"

"Nope, more like a get-up-off-your-ass-and-start-acting-like-a-human-being talk. News flash: while you've been sitting here feeling sorry for yourself, the rest of us have been completely miserable."

"This isn't about pity."

"Could've fooled me."

"I'm not safe to be around. You of all people should know that."

"Stick says you're getting better."

"Stick doesn't know what he's talking about."

"Then why do you remember anything of what you did? At first you said you could only remember bits and pieces. If more and more stuff is coming back to you, then that memory erase thing must be wearing off."

The way in which she said it told Matt that Abby considered this to be a good thing. He chose not to comment.

"Wait," the teen murmured after a beat of silence. "That's it isn't it, that's part of it." Shaking her head in disgust, she continued, talking mostly to herself. "You don't want to remember, you don't want to face what you did."

"Get out. I won't tell you again."

"You're not letting Stick help you because you don't want to be helped."

"Stick's tried for weeks, it doesn't work."

"It's obviously doing something if you're not chasing people around with knives."

Matt grimaced, his shoulders drooping. "I'm sorry," he whispered. "I never wanted to hurt you."

Did Abby just snort?

"That's so not the issue."

"Then what is?" Matt fairly growled, deliberately stepping closer.

"It's you being weak and stupid and pathetic."

"You think I didn't try to fight them? That I just gave in and let it happen?" Another step forward.

"That's not even what I'm talking about! You're not weak because of that, you're weak because you have a chance to beat them and you won't take it! Why are you just lying down and doing nothing, why don't you fight?"

"Because there's a point-and I hope you never reach it- where you don't want to fight anymore. You can't."

"Yeah? Well I'd never reach that point, because you and Elektra wouldn't let me. If I tried pulling what you are now, the two of you wouldn't put up with it for a second."

"You don't understand."

"I understand that if this was anyone else, anyone besides you, you wouldn't be beating them up about it like you are yourself. What about Elektra? She hurt way more people then you ever did, and last I checked she wasn't brainwashed!"

"That has nothing to do with this."

Shaking her head again, Abby threw up her hands. "You know what? Whatever. Do what you want, but don't use me as your excuse, because I'm over it."

"Are you?" Matt questioned, stepping closer still. "Is that why you're palms are sweating, why you're pulse is spiking?" The fear had been on her since she came in. Fear of him. Fear he'd put there.

There was a heavy pause, the air filled with enough tension to suck all oxygen from the room. Finally, Abby replied. "You're right, I'm afraid of you. Is that what you wanted to hear? But you know what? I'm still here, I'm still facing you. That's the difference between us."

The next words out of Abby's mouth shook Matt to the core, leaving him unable to speak, or even breathe for that matter.

"You're lucky your Dad's not around. He 'd hate knowing how easy it was for you to quit on everyone you pretend to care about."

Turning on her heel, Abby was gone.

Matt was alone again, as he had been for so long now.

* * *

"Jerk."

This Elektra heard Abby mumble, along with a seemingly endless string of other, more unintelligible phrases. She assumed that none of them were directed at her, since Abby stormed past without a second look, apparently unaware of the older woman's presence.

"Abby?"

"Not now," was the truculent reply as the teen continued to retreat. The cabin holding Matt's depravation tank stood about fifty feet away.

Great, just great.

Elektra had known exactly where her missing charge was headed, and would've been there earlier if not for the delay caused by those foolish kids. Well, 'kids' wasn't the right descriptor, they were probably eighteen, maybe nineteen, but they were still idiots. Three students, two girls and a boy who were obviously new recruits had cornered her, wanting, of all things, tips on how to deal with their sensei. It was common knowledge around The Compound that Elektra was the only one brave (or stupid) enough to go toe-to-toe with the old man, and these three were looking for advice on how to follow in her footsteps.

If they'd been afraid of Stick, they were now terrified of her.

Moving briskly toward the door, Elektra prepared herself for the worst.

Time for more damage control.

Entering, she found Matt standing in the middle of the room, his expression blank and unreadable. She approached him as she would a wounded animal, not sure what to expect.

"Not now," he said quietly, before she could utter a word.

Stepping around her, he exited the room, leaving Elektra confused and fuming.

* * *

When she next saw Matt, four hours had passed. She was practicing kicks and hits in one of the empty training areas, hoping to work off some of her frustration. It wasn't working. Without something to hit, there was simply no point to it, and all of her potential punching bags (meaning the students) knew her well enough to make themselves scarce. Amateurs were no fun anyway, there was no challenge.

The Compound was quieter then usual today, and she heard him long before he spoke.

"Can we talk?"

He'd come up from behind. He was close, but not close enough to hit.

Damn.

"There's a nice change, usually I'm the one asking that question." She refused to face him, executing a perfect roundhouse kick.

"Point taken. E, would you stop and look at me for a second?"

"You don't want me to do that."

Because if she stopped and looked at him, he might end up with permanent damage.

"Fair enough, I guess I don't deserve much better."

If he was expecting an argument, he was going to be sorely disappointed.

"Abby came to see me."

"I know, I told her not to."

Which, in retrospect, was probably her main reason for doing it.

"She…she made some things clear to me, things I wasn't willing to accept until now."

Elektra paused briefly in her assault on the evening air. "_Abby _gave you a pep talk?"

"More like a get-up-off-your-ass-and-start-acting-like-a-human-being talk. Her words, not mine."

"And it worked?" Back to her workout, the kicks and punches coming naturally, each one in perfect form.

"Yeah." When Elektra gave no indication that she was going to respond, he continued. "I know…I realize the way I've been acting…things will be different now."

"That's good, Matt."

She didn't mean to sound cold, but Matt's behavior had been so erratic since their reunion. At times, he'd be almost normal, and she could almost trick herself into believing that he was improving. Then he'd change, become moody and withdrawn and, occasionally, cruel. There was just no telling anymore.

"No, I mean it, Elektra. I-I know I'm not okay, not even close, but…I think that maybe I could be again, and that's more then I've been able to say in a long time."

Elektra grew still as he waited for her reply. She wouldn't look at him.

"You scared me so much." It took everything she had to admit that, and she knew that Matt knew it.

"I know."

"Wasn't it you who always talked about doing things together, about me not shutting you out?"

"I'm a hypocrite. Can I plead temporary insanity?"

He was closer now, she could feel it. When he grasped her shoulders, turning her so she was facing him, Elektra didn't resist.

"I know you're angry."

"You were a jackass."

"Is that better or worse then an asshole?"

"What?"

"Never mind. Look, I know you want to hit something, so use me."

"No."

"We both know I deserve it, and you obviously need it. Go ahead, knock some sense into me.."

"I'm not going to hit you, Matt."

Shrugging out of his hold, Elektra began to walk away. The spin kick she performed a second later was perfect as usual. Matt was flat on his back with no fuss at all. She then hauled him up by his shirt, punching him hard in the mouth.

"I thought you said you weren't going to hit me." She couldn't tell if he sounded aggrieved or amused as he massaged the injured area.

"I changed my mind. Besides, it was half speed, I didn't even draw any blood."

"Can I take that as a sign of forgiveness?"

In answer, Elektra pulled him down, kissing him harder then necessary, paying special attention to the spot that was already starting to swell. Long moments later, they broke apart, both realizing they were getting dizzy from lack of oxygen.

"You ever do that again-" Elektra started in her most threatening tone.

"-you'll rip out my spleen and choke me with it, I get the picture."

"As long as we're clear," she replied, before covering her mouth with his, making further speech impossible.


	20. Chapter Twenty

Love Me When I'm Gone

Chapter Twenty

Foggy stood outside the door for almost five minutes before it swung open. The sight that greeted him sent a flush of heat racing up his skin.

Elektra. Decked out in a man's dress shirt. And nothing else.

Mentally kicking himself as the warmth travelled to…other parts of his anatomy, Foggy couldn't help thinking how lucky Matt was.

At least, how lucky Matt had been.

The reminder of his former business partner's death sobered him instantly, causing him to feel even guiltier for his more…primal reaction to seeing Elektra.

"Hey," the woman in question greeted. She sounded good, happy, if a little breathless.

"Hey," Foggy parroted. The thousand watt smile on her face was an unexpected, but by no means unwelcome surprise. "It's really great to see you."

He meant it. It had been months since they'd last spoken, and frankly he'd begun to fear for her safety, despite his knowledge of how…resourceful she could be.

Elektra continued to smile warmly as she gestured for him to come inside. Foggy let out an impressed whistle as he surveyed the lavish interior of the house.

"Damn, E. Your note said this was just a little summer place."

"It is," Elektra replied as she shut the door behind him.

"You have to understand," came a new voice from somewhere above the foyer they now occupying, "that what Elektra thinks of as small is not the same as what us common folk think of as small."

Abby Miller grinned wickedly as she sauntered down the marble staircase, apparently unconcerned with the death look being aimed at her.

"I resent that."

"Resent away," Abby retorted as she made her way towards Foggy. "What's up, Frogman?"

The lawyer rolled his eyes at the use of the nickname, which, for some reason that was entirely beyond his understanding, Abby seemed to find amusing. "It's good to see you, too."

If it were possible, the teen's grin seemed to widen. "Welcome to the Love Shack. At least I won't be the only one getting tortured now."

Elektra, who'd been running a hand through her uncharacteristically less-then-perfect hair, gave the young warrior a gentle shove, though her face conveyed anything but gentility

"Ignore her."

"What? I'm just trying to explain-"

"Why don't you go back upstairs?"

"Why, I'm dressed already, unlike you." To Foggy, she said," That's why it took her forever to answer the door you know. She was-"

Another shove, this one not so gentle. "And what, exactly, was so difficult about you coming down and answering it yourself?"

"You told me not to." The reply was a trifle defensive. "You said that if I talked to him first, I'd I'd say something stupid and he'd get the wrong idea."

"Yes, where would I get a crazy idea like that?"

"It's a mystery." Addressing Foggy this time. "So has she told you about the guy?"

"Guy?" Foggy repeated, aware that he'd sounded rather dumb. The blush Elektra was trying unsuccessfully to hide, combined with everything else he'd seen all seemed to confirm it. And, he supposed, it had certainly been long enough since the murder, but would Elektra really bring him here to meet a new boyfriend?

"Yeah, the one she's sleeping-ow! Would you lay off the hitting? I could sic Child Services on you!"

"That was not a hit. And even if it was, Child Services couldn't find anyone willing to deal with you."

"Thanks, it's nice to know you care."

Sensing that this exchange could very well go on forever, Foggy decided to take his chances and interrupt. "So…you met someone?"

"No," Elektra was quick to reply.

"Oh come on, E, tell him about the-ow! Just because you were up late last night-"

"Abby, if you don't find somewhere else to be in the next three seconds…"

"-doesn't mean you should resort to child abuse."

"I haven't, but you're making it awfully tempting."

"Is that a threat?"

This time, Foggy heard the footsteps before the voice, although once again it came from the upper level.

"You know, I finally understand what you said about us killing each other if we ever took a vacation together."

Foggy looked up in shock and astonishment as his best friend descended the stairs, slipping into a plain white T-shirt as he did. In his state of ecstatic bewilderment, Foggy barely noticed the scars crisscrossing the other man's upper body before they were covered by fabric.

Grinning widely, Matt came to stand next to Elektra, to whom his last comment had seemingly been directed.

"I would've come down sooner, but I couldn't find my shirt."

That at least explained why the light blue garment looked so familiar.

Abby rolled her eyes in Foggy's direction, heaving a long suffering sigh. "That was him trying to be clever."

"But-how is this-? You-" The shorter of the two lawyers was having extreme difficulty in forming complete sentences. He'd never understand quite how much Elektra sympathized with his plight.

"Foggy, Foggy, Foggy, nobody around here actually stays dead. Don't you know that by now?"

"Abby," Elektra bit out. "You're not helping. Foggy, it's a long story."

Foggy couldn't suppress a half hysterical burst of laughter. "When _isn't _it a long story with you two?"

"We'll get into it over coffee," Matt promised.

"Can we make it Irish coffee? I get the feeling I might need it after hearing this one."

"I'm sorry," Abby cut in, "but the look on his face…"

"Why don't you go see what we have for breakfast?" Elektra suggested.

"Man Matt, if you could see-"

"Abby. Kitchen. Go."

"Are you going to cook?"

Elektra grimaced, breathing more deeply then would normally be required. "I'm not sure yet. Maybe."

Abby brightened considerably. "Cool, it'll be like watching a chicken running around with its head cut off."

* * *

Elektra watched in a kind of morbid fascination as Abby crammed spoonful after spoonful of cereal into her mouth at a rate that bordered on the obscene. Discipline borne from years of practice kept her from focusing on the bits of sugary processed food themselves.

There was going to be retribution for this.

Having changed into more suitable clothing, Elektra had entered the kitchen a few minutes ago to find Abby and Matt sitting next to each other, looking entirely too cheerful for her peace of mind.

Stopping to give Foggy a proper greeting (hugging him hadn't seemed the best idea before, considering her lack of bra or underwear) Elektra had gone to the pantry in search of sustenance. When she saw what sat atop the center shelf, those unsettlingly big smiles suddenly made sense.

Taking another cleansing breath, Elektra removed the three boxes of cereal, placing them in a perfectly straight line along the counter.

Trix.

Fruit Loops.

Lucky Charms.

"Awesome, how did those get in there?"

"I don't know, Abby. Why don't you tell me?"

"Oh yeah, I remember now. Matt bought them while we were in town the other day."

"Did he?"

"Yup, they're his favorites, right Matt?"

Holding up his index finger, Matt picked up his glass of orange juice, taking an exceedingly long swig. Realizing that he wouldn't be answering anytime soon, Elektra trained her gaze on the youngest member of their little breakfast gathering.

"You. Told. Him."

"Told him what?"

"You. Are. Grounded."

"But I didn't do anything! Why don't you just pour a few bowls, and then we can sit down and have some nice family bonding?"

"We are not having family bonding. If you want cereal, come and get it yourself."

"But you're so much closer. What's the big deal; it's just a little cereal."

That insolent, cocky-! Abby was mocking her.

Again

Projecting an air of complete and utter calm, Elektra opened the box of Lucky Charms, pulled some bowls from the cabinet, and retrieved the milk from the fridge. It wasn't until she'd poured the second bowl that things went downhill. She let her eyes focus on the tiny pieces for just a bit too long.

There were so many different kinds, all mixed together. If she could just organize them, arrange them in a way that made sense…

"And that, gentlemen, is why they make medication."

Abby had no right to be so damn jubilant at her expense.

Yes, there were going to be consequences. This indignity could not go unpunished.

"Have you guys been feeding her at all?"

Foggy's query brought Elektra back to the present, to the teen sitting across from her, attacking her breakfast with a veracity that was completely unwarranted, except in cases of prolonged, extreme, starvation.

"Abby, slow down."

Elektra held up her napkin in defense as partially chewed marshmallows flew in her direction.

"Chew."

Abby did as instructed.

"Good," Elektra praised. "Now swallow."

Again, Abby did as she was told.

"Good. _Now _talk."

Nodding sheepishly, the girl spoke rapidly as she vacated her seat. "Sorry, I'm in kind of a hurry, and you guys obviously have a lot to catch up on, so I'll just head out and leave you to it."

She made it roughly three steps before Elektra had time to process what was said. Grabbing hold of the hood on Abby's sweat jacket, Elektra pulled her back, preventing further movement.

"Where are you going?"

"Nowhere special."

"With who?"

"Nobody."

"Is this the same 'nobody" you used my cell to talk to last night?"

"How do you know about that?"

"Because it was in your room."

"Oh. Well at least I turned it off."

"Yeah. And I'm guessing that's why the alarm never went off."

The clock in their bedroom was broken, so Elektra had set the alarm on her phone to go off in time for Foggy's arrival. Obviously, things hadn't worked out that way.

"Oh. Well, I guess it makes sense that you'd need something to wake you up, with all you're nighttime activities."

"Don't start."

"I'm not." Abby, who was never much for humming, broke into a passable rendition of 'Love Shack' under her breath.

"Abby," Matt cut in, "who are you meeting with?"

"Angelo."

"Who?" Elektra asked.

"Angelo."

"Angelo what?"

"Uh, we didn't really get to the last name stage yet. But he said I was beautiful, and he wanted to hang out today. Or something like that. I think."

"You think?" Matt repeated.

"Yeah, there's a little bit of a language barrier. You know, they really should make English the official language of Greece. But hey, fewer words means less argument potential right?"

"Abby-"

"Elektra, chill out. Not everyone in the world is out to kill us."

"I don't think-"

"Let her go."

Abby's gaze swiveled to Matt, lighting on the unexpected ally. "See, Matt says its okay."

"I know who she means E, I heard them talking. He's fine."

"Yeah, what he said."

Ignoring Abby's less then helpful contribution to the discussion, Elektra addressed only Matt. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, there wasn't any...he's okay, trust me." More softly, he added, "She hasn't seen her friends in months. Let her have one day."

"Fine," Elektra said after a moment's hesitation. "But"

"-be responsible, don't get arrested, try not to piss anybody off, I know the drill."

"Be home for dinner."

"No prob," Abby tossed over her shoulder as she headed for the door. Pausing, she asked, "Are you cooking?"

Elektra tried not to be offended by the fear she heard there. "No, I'm sure we'll find some way to avoid that nightmarish possibility."

"Cool, see you later then."

* * *

"You're kidding."

"You asked."

"Wonder Woman?"

"I was six!"

"_Wonder Woman_?"

"I. Was. _Six_!"

Holding up his hands in the universal sign for surrender, Matt did his best to look apologetic. Despite his efforts, Abby still seemed a little peeved.

"I knew you'd laugh."

"Sorry, but at least I know what to get you for your birthday next year. He definitely had her attention now. Purposely drawing out the silence, he finished the thought only when Abby threatened bodily harm. "A tiara."

"Yeah right."

"Wonder Woman wore a tiara."

"I. Was. Six. You owe me for popping your little pity bubble, so I'm expecting something suitably amazing."

"Such as?"

"A Lamborghini would be nice."

"No."

"Ferrari then?"

"We'll see."

"You're humoring me aren't you?"

"Maybe." Growing serious, Matt wished he could make eye contact to help convey the sincerity of what he was about to say. He settled instead on letting every bit of his gratitude bleed into his voice. "You're right though, I do owe you, and I doubt that a Lamborghini would come close to making us even."

"Oh believe me, it would." It was meant as a joke, but Matt heard the undercurrent there and smiled in satisfaction. She got it. She understood.

"Please tell me you haven't promised her a car."

Both people on the couch looked up at Elektra's arrival. Dressed in sweatpants and tank top, she took a seat between them. "What are you guys doing up?"

Abby slumped deep into the couch cushions, her features marred by a frown of annoyance. "Fifteen guest rooms in this museum and you have to put Foggy in the one next to mine? Guy has a major snoring problem. Sounds like a ship coming to port."

"Stop complaining," Matt replied. "You didn't share a dorm with him."

Abby hissed in sympathy. Seemingly unaware of the action, she leaned back against Elektra, letting her head drop to the older woman's shoulder."

"It's after midnight, why don't you go upstairs and crash in one of the other rooms?"

But Abby shook her head in the negative. "They're showing _Star Wars Episode III _on the Sci-fi channel."

"In that case," Elektra declared, "I'm the one going to bed."

"Come on," Abby whined, using her best hurt puppy dog look.

"No. I refuse to watch movies with the two of you."

"It's not that bad," Matt insisted.

"Yes it is. Every time, every single time, you two turn into a couple of five year olds. Her I can almost understand, but what's your excuse?"

"She's a bad influence on me."

"Am not."

"And so it begins," Elektra deadpanned, hoping more then ever for a quick escape route.

"I'm going to get some popcorn." Extricating herself from between the adults, Abby bounded off towards the kitchen, heedless of her mentor's protestations.

Deciding it was best to lie down and accept defeat on this one, Elektra scooted close to Matt pressing her face against the fabric of his shirt. He'd never answered her question about why he was awake, not verbally anyways, which meant the nightmares were still coming.

The fact remained however, that he was still here, still with her. Waking up alone had made her forget that piece of information. The arm that tightened around her shoulders served as a reminder.

"Popcorn's ready."

Elektra blinked, surprised by how much time had passed. A fond smile touched her lips as Abby sat down next to her, popcorn bowl in hand."

"How," the former assassin wondered, "can you eat anything with that much butter?"

"It's popcorn, E. It's supposed to be like this."

"Keep eating that and you'll end up with clogged arteries."

"You're being really parental today; you know that? It's making me nervous. Anyway, you only live once right? Wait, that doesn't really apply here, does it?"

"Watch your movie," Matt told her from his place on the other side of the couch. He'd turned on the sixty inch plasma screen just as the opening credits began to roll.

For the rest of the night, no words were spoken. Abby resumed her position leaning against her guardian, sighing contentedly as the older woman trailed long fingers through her hair. Soon, the teen was resting her head in Elektra's lap, the actors' dialogue running together, creating pleasant background noise. Dimly, she was aware of something warm and soft being placed over her, and then she was out, fading quietly into sleep with her lips upturned in a smile.

As it turned out, Elektra was finding the situation even more enjoyable then Abby was. There had been too many negative emotions running too high for too long. The relief at not having all the fear and grief and tension pressing down on her was indescribable. Also, she was surprised by how good it felt to hold Abby like this. She'd done it before, but only when the kid was in the midst of some emotional maelstrom, needing someone to pick up the pieces after she'd fallen apart. Elektra made a mental note to do this more often, as it seemed to have a calming effect on booth of them.

At the same time, she knew it couldn't last. No matter how normal or…domestic they tried to act, there were still issues to be dealt with. Matt was recovering, but he wasn't healed yet, and he still refused to divulge the details of his torture and captivity.

Abby still carried the emotional burdens that came with Matt's attack, along with a few new ones Elektra wasn't quite clear on.

And Elektra, she had her own demons left over from this whole bloody mess.

But there would be more then enough time to fight them later.

For now, she continued her absent stroking of Abby's hair, and leaned just a bit further into Matt's strong arms.

For now, she enjoyed the moment, all too aware that, more then likely, it was the calm before the storm.

* * *

In an apartment on New York's Upper East Side, far away from the small Greek island holding one of the Natchios family vacation homes, a lithe, dark haired woman studied her television intently. The movie, something with Bruce Lee, was her sixth that day. The volume was muted, not that Maya could tell the difference.

She'd encountered both Matt Murdock and Elektra Natchios before, though she was the farthest thing from either of their minds.

Pausing the DVD, Maya took a moment to copy the extremely complicated martial arts moves that Lee had just performed.

She mirrored the routine perfectly.

Hitting play, she skipped over to the next fight scene, devoting the same concentration to that as she had the previous one.

Pause. Copy.

Pause. Copy.

Pause. Copy.

Ignoring the pangs of tiredness that were starting to creep in on her, Maya continued like this, stopping only long enough to replace one Bruce Lee classic with another.

She needed to be ready.

Wilson was counting on her.

* * *

Inside the new Fiskcorp building, the company's CEO was also watching a DVD. However, this one was not a movie, but a security tape. Ever since his people had handed him this disk, Fisk had watched it over and over, his happiness increasing each time he did.

How could thirty seconds of footage hold this much power?

Pause. Repeat. Pause. Repeat.

"Sir? Your eleven thirty is here."

Pressing a button built into his desk, Fisk responded to his secretary's statement, but not before closing the laptop he'd been staring at for the last few hours.

"Send him in."

A moment later the door was opening. The man behind it looked surprisingly vital, all things considered.

"I'm surprised you bothered to make an appointment."

"Eh, it was a nice change of pace."

The accent was thicker then he remembered. "I'd heard rumors that you'd been killed."

"Long story. Nobody stays dead anymore."

Truer words. Unconsciously, Fisk rubbed his finger along the side of the laptop.

"What about the rumors I've heard, that you've gone legit?"

"If that were true, do you really think I'd b sitting here talking to you?"

Bullseye laughed as he stepped up to the desk. "I'm going to enjoy working with you again, Fisk, I really am."

**Author's Note: **Once again, I've reversed the order of things so as to avoid spoilers. First off, in case you haven't noticed, it's done. Finally done. But fear not, for there will be a sequel, though it probably won't be for awhile yet. The anticipation and waiting will make you all the more happy when I do start posting. I hope.

Secondly, if you didn't understand the cereal joke (which wouldn't surprise me considering how long it's been since I wrote the set up for it) skim over chapter six one more time.

Thirdly, and most importantly, thank you to every person that's taken the time to read this thing. I know many of you may not have liked the separation between Matt and Elektra, but remember, I did put my toys back in (relatively) the same condition I found them. To everyone who reviewed, you guys are awesome, even if I couldn't always find the time to respond to your comments. Special thanks go to Ratdogtwo for helping me over some story bumps, as well as providing an endless supply of motivation muffins. And motivation cookies. And motivation fruitcakes. (Though I must say, the fruitcakes weren't nearly as yummy.)

Well, that's it for this one guys. Send me your thoughts, comments, or suggestions for the sequel. Or, if you absolutely hated it and would think it a federal crime for me to write again, let me know that, too. Oh, and anyone who really is interested in the sequel, feel free to harass me via email if I take too long to post. Until next time…


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